Paris' Song
by celticreeder
Summary: Paris Aldress has pretended to be deaf and mute for nearly her entire life for specific reasons. Now as a member of the Opera Ballet dancers she has met and fallen in love with infamous Phantom of the Opera. Will her secret bring happiness? (COMPLETE)
1. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER:** Only Paris Aldress belongs to me, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux.  


_Paris' Song_

  


By Celticreeder

**

Chapter One

**

"Come on Paris, our Angel is waiting!" Christine Daaé called out behind her as she ran down the hall in the Paris Opera House.

A young girl of about 23 with straight shoulder-length black hair, smooth milky white skin, and cold grey-blue eyes went running down the hall after Christine. The two girls stopped in front of a door and Christine quickly opened it. Both girls hurried into the room and Paris sat down in the vanity chair while Christine stood in front of the full length mirror.

"Angel, we're here. I'm ready for my lesson," Christine called out.

"You needn't shout Christine, I can hear you just fine," a heavenly voice answered.

Christine blushed and glanced over at Paris. Paris Aldress smiled and swallowed hard as she heard the voice. The voice was absolutely beautiful, the flawless voice of an angel. That would probably explain why he was Christine's Angel of Music, she thought. Christine and her Angel began to sing and Paris closed her eyes as she became consumed with the Angel's voice. For Paris, the voice brought both pain and pleasure.

She herself had a voice like that and it had gotten her into a lot of trouble when she was younger. Her voice was believed to be the work of the Devil, not God. Her voice was beautiful, heavenly but not humanly possible, or so her parents and neighbors believed. Everyone believed she was possessing people to do horrible things. Her voice had caused fellow classmates to do awful things in school. She had been playing with her dolls in the courtyard when a large rat had scurried by. Paris had given a terrible shriek and began screaming for it to die as she whacked at it with a stick. Two young girls who had been nearby were seen stabbing themselves with sharp sticks a few minutes later. They died shortly afterwards before the doctor arrived. This sort of thing happened on many more occasions in the next couple of years until Paris was forbidden to speak at all. Any time she spoke after that she was severely beaten. Her back was now striped with scars from the beatings. After one severely painful beating Paris was ill for days and when she got better she pretended she had lost her voice and hearing. From that day on she pretended to be deaf and dumb, much to the relief of her family members.

'Why is he allowed to use his voice while I only cause problems with mine? I guess he was given his voice by God.' Paris began to smack herself on the forehead when she realized what she'd just thought. 'Of course he was given his voice by God, he's an Angel!'

"Is she alright, Christine?" the Angel suddenly asked.

Paris looked over at Christine as she pretended to feel eyes watching her. Christine was staring at her strangely and Paris could only imagine what the Angel looked like. Looking down Paris saw that she had been smacking her head in actuality instead of mentally. Quickly lowering her hand, she smiled quickly at Christine before motioning for her to continue her lesson. With one more glance at Paris, Christine turned back towards the mirror and the lesson began again. Paris sighed and played with her skirt as she waited for the lesson to end. It was hard pretending she was deaf and dumb but she was thankful she was able to pull it off. It came in handy on numerous occasions. She didn't know how many people had told her secrets that should not have been told and they believed they would be kept. Lucky for them, Paris would keep them. However, she had heard many that dealt with something illegal which had eaten at Paris' conscious for days afterwards for she could not tell what she had heard for then her own secret would be revealed. So she kept her mouth shut and just worked on honing her other senses. Christine stopped singing and after a few minutes Paris looked up. Christine turned to her and made a cutting motion across her throat indicating that the lesson was over. Paris nodded and waved at the mirror saying goodbye to Christine's Angel of Music. Paris then turned and left the dressing room.

Entering the changing room that all the ballet girls and chorus girls used, Paris sighed and changed into her dance outfit for practice. Picking up her toe shoes Paris left for rehearsal. She was surprised that she had been accepted as a dancer for the Opera Company due to the fact that she was "deaf", but because she could hear she had been able to perform her audition flawlessly. Because of that audition, the managers had hired her with out even realizing that she was "deaf" and so when they had found out they were so surprised at her talent they hadn't even thought to fire her.

All during rehearsal Paris prayed for it to end soon. She was forced to "listen" to the gossip of _le petite rats_. Most of their stories were about the dreaded Opera Ghost or who was sleeping with whom. Paris thanked God for her predicament because that meant she didn't have to contribute to the conversations. However, she did enjoy listening to the stories about the Opera Ghost, those she found entertaining. Paris did believe in ghosts but she did not believe that the Opera Ghost was an actual ghost. She couldn't explain why but there was something about they way he operated that seemed too human.

When rehearsal finally ended Paris and Christine went out to dinner with a couple of the other dancers. Paris listened to the girls talk about rehearsal and smiled as she sipped her water. When the conversation turned to the aristocracy Paris tuned them out. Christine was not so lucky. She had been seen in the company of a Monsieur Raoul le Vicomte de Chagny. It was rumored that they were a couple but Christine denied the accusations.

"My maestro does not want me getting involved with men right now. I can not afford to lose him now. He's been helping me with my singing so much and I must not get side tracked. Besides, Raoul is just a child hood friend, nothing more," Christine defended with a deep blush.

Paris knew that the Angel of Music was rather commanding and had indeed demanded that Christine not get involved in a relationship that could damage her singing career. Paris sighed as she wished that the Angel would pay that sort of attention to her. Paris had been falling in love with the Angel of Music ever since she first heard his voice. However, she knew that he wouldn't stay forever since he was an angel and would eventually have to return to Heaven or leave in order to instruct another hopeful singer or musician. Glancing at Christine she signaled to her that she had to leave. Christine nodded so Paris left some money for her own food then left for her flat. She was exhausted and wanted to get as much sleep as she could that night. She planned on staying late at the Opera House the next night to get some extra practice in and she needed a good night's sleep in order to do that.

Changing into her nightgown Paris readied her self for bed then slipped under the covers. Blowing out the candle, she pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. She fell asleep with the Angel of Music's voice singing to her in her mind.

Far below the Paris Opera House deep in the fifth cellar, a man sat at a beautiful black pipe organ. His long, graceful fingers danced across the keys producing hauntingly beautiful music. His head bounced along with the pace of the music and his long lithe body moved with the flow as well helping to emphasize the rhythm. He was clad in an immaculate black evening jacket and black trousers hugged his long legs. A steel grey vest covered a white dress shirt and a black tie was tied around his long neck. His unfashionably long black hair was pulled back in a queue while his bangs fell roguishly over his forehead and into his eyes. Over the right side of his face was a black leather mask that covered his forehead and stopped just above his mouth. At the moment his eyes were closed but when open they revealed a rather unique eye color. They were a grey blue with swirls of gold that made his eyes glow unnaturally in the dark. And the fact that they were lined with long thick black lashes just made them all the more alluring to look at.

With a flourish he finished his piece and waited for the notes to die before he took a deep breath and stood up to reveal his height of over six feet. Tugging on his jacket he strode out of the room and into a lavishly furnished living room with the grace of a cat or dancer. With a sigh he sat himself down in a black throne-like chair and stared into the fire. His mind was no longer on his music but it wasn't far from that topic either. He was thinking about a woman. Christine Daaé to be exact. She was improving vocally beautifully and he hoped to reveal himself to her soon. It was getting harder to pretend to be her Angel of Music when all he wanted was to tell her who he was and that he loved her. He had fallen in love with Christine Daaé when he had first heard her singing one evening in the empty Opera House auditorium. She had been a scared little thing and her voice had been small and weak but after singing for a few minutes she had let herself go and had produced a beautiful sound that had been untrained and yearning for guidance. He had just happened to be watching her from behind her dressing room mirror a few days later when she had asked her late father why he hadn't sent her the Angel of Music as he had promised. He had used that information to his advantage and had claimed to be her Angel of Music sent to her by her father.

However he was just a man, a man by the name of Erik. He was also known as the Phantom of the Opera, the Opera Ghost and that was a problem. Christine was terrified of the Opera Ghost and as soon as he told her who he actually was she would not even have to see his face in order to run screaming from the room. Such was his life, he thought with a sigh.

Now the other young lady with whom he was acquainted with was another story. She didn't know who he was and he was pretty sure she didn't know about the stories of the Opera Ghost so there was no way she could connect him with those stories nor could she connect him with Christine's Angel. Paris, at times, was a Godsend due to her predicament. Because she couldn't hear, she wouldn't know about the stories. The only problem was because she couldn't speak she couldn't offer him any advice on how to get Christine to fall in love with him. With a small smile Erik began to think about what he should do with Christine tomorrow during her lesson. He also planned on when he would finally reveal himself to her. Hopefully things would work out for everyone.


	2. Chapter Two

**

Chapter Two

**

Weeks passed and Christine was placed as La Carlotta's understudy and she even ended up performing the lead when Carlotta refused to perform due to a "life threatening" accident during rehearsal that day. Christine was a huge success but she fainted at the end do to the overwhelming emotions she had felt during the performance. However, shortly after Christine was taken to her dressing room to rest she disappeared. No one knew where she had disappeared to since the young man, Raoul le Vicomte de Chagny, claimed that she never left the room and he heard her speaking with a man. The door had been locked when Raoul had tried to enter the room to get Christine since she had agreed to go with him to dinner but shortly after the room had gone quiet the door unlocked and Raoul enter to find it empty.

Paris stepped out from behind the changing screen and stared sadly at the mirror. She had been in the room when Christine was taken through the mirror by her Angel of Music. No one knew she was back there and now that she knew the Angel was just a man, Paris felt mixed emotions. She had been in love with the Angel of Music but now that he turned out to be an actual man, someone who she could actually hold and love, she feared that he would never return the feelings. She had a feeling he was in love with Christine but Paris knew Christine was undecided in the love department. Christine cared greatly for her Angel but she also had feelings for Raoul and it was obvious that Raoul had feelings for Christine as well. Paris felt tears well up in her eyes as she realized that no one would ever love her that way. She had a feeling it was because she was "deaf and dumb". Clutching a pillow, Paris cried silently.

Christine returned a few days later and it was obvious something terrible had happened. The first person she sought out was Paris. Paris was in rehearsal so as soon as it was over Christine pulled her off to a small café for dinner and a chat.

"Oh Paris, it was awful! I thought he was my Angel but he's not, he's just a man with the voice of my Angel! He took me down to his house below the Opera House. Oh Paris, he's the Phantom and he's so terribly disfigured. His face, it's hardly a face any more and his temper…oh God! I promised I would visit him again but I just don't know if I can." Christine went on to tell Paris what happened while she was down in the Phantom's domain.

Paris, for her part, acted as though she was being supportive while not being able to hear or speak. However, she collected all the information that Christine gave about the man who had pretended to be the Angel of Music. She savored the name of him in her mind, Erik, a lonely, disfigured man who cared deeply for Christine. When Christine completed her tale she looked at Paris and gave a nervous smile.

"I'm sorry I've just placed all my problems on you like this but you are the only one who would understand. Maybe it's because you can't speak and hear so you don't know what exactly I'm saying and so you can't condemn me for anything. Although I do wish you could at least offer me some advice. I could really use some advice."

Paris smiled at Christine and squeezed her hand comfortingly. However, as soon as Christine turned to look down at the menu, Paris' smile faded and her eyes filled with pain. She knew Christine was not strong enough to handle a situation like this. She was not raised the same way Paris was and she had a feeling Erik had had similar treatment in his youth if he was deformed. However, Paris couldn't hate Christine for hurting both herself and Erik with her fear but until Paris got to know Erik she could only feel hurt by his rejection and feel sorry for Christine for being afraid of a deformed man who had lied to her.

From that day on Christine would disappear after rehearsal to visit Erik for her daily voice lesson and Paris would be left behind up on the stage. But she couldn't hate Christine for her actions since Christine was her best friend and she still came to Paris to confess what went on between Erik and herself. Every time this happened Paris would "listen" to Christine but in her heart she was in pain. She wanted Erik to pay attention to her. The more she heard about Erik from Christine the more Paris was convinced that Christine did not deserve Erik and he did not need Christine, which in the end hurt Paris just the same.

A month went by since Christine had been taken down to Erik's layer and one day Paris found her self in Christine's dressing room while Christine was out to lunch with Raoul. He had been courting Christine or at least trying to since she was rather reluctant to go anywhere with him since Erik was rather demanding of her time. Paris was tidying up the dressing room when she suddenly felt a presence nearby watching her. Giving no indication that she could sense whoever it was she waited for them to speak. She didn't have long to wait.

"Oh Paris, why can't Christine accept me for who I am? Why must she only see my face and my temper? I care deeply for her yet she refuses to acknowledge my feelings. I wish you could hear and speak but then again I'm glad you can't because then you can't be afraid of me. You don't even know who I am so maybe that's a good thing too. You can't be afraid of me if you don't know who I am to know what I've done. God Paris, I'm the Phantom of the Opera but I'm also only a man! I have feelings just like the next man but because of my face everyone thinks other wise. How do you do it, Paris? How do you go about your life with your problems and not have them hold you back like mine do me? Where do you get the strength to go about your life knowing you're different?" the Opera Ghost demanded from behind the mirror.

Paris picked up a dust cloth and went over towards the mirror and began to dust it. She could still feel Erik's presence behind it and so after a few minutes of dusting she slowly lowered the cloth and just stared into the mirror. She didn't really look at herself but looked past her reflection as if she was looking at something behind the mirror. Slowly she tentatively placed a hand on the mirror's surface.

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head. You always seem to know what's going on even when you shouldn't due to your disabilities. And yet you are still just as clueless to what is going on. Sometimes I wish Christine were more like you, Paris."

Paris turned and continued dusting the vanity as if she hadn't heard anything from him. Paris stayed in the dressing room until she felt Erik's presence disappear, then she left for home where she curled up in her bed and silently cried for everything she couldn't have. Having heard Erik's confessions she wanted desperately to be the object of his affections.

Erik sat on his couch staring into the fire. His mind was surprisingly not on Christine but on another just as equally confusing woman: Paris Aldress. He couldn't get her out of his mind for some reason. After talking to her that afternoon he had found that she was a wonderful confessional. He could talk to her about anything and she wouldn't say anything back. Usually that would annoy the hell out of him but with Paris it was a relief. However, that scene at the mirror kept replaying in his mind. She had seemed wistful and sad, as if she could actually hear him and had been saddened by what he was saying. But, he thought with a soft laugh, she was deaf and therefore she could not hear what he was saying.

Getting up Erik made his way to his music room to compose more of his opera. His opera was for Christine now but as he composed the next aria he had Paris in mind. Sheet after sheet of music began to fill with notes that embodied Paris in his mind. He went through three arias with out stopping and when exhaustion finally took over his body he had written more music for Paris than he had for Christine. He usually didn't write this fast when he was composing an aria for Christine; usually he would sit at his organ testing chords here and intervals there. He was always very careful about the music he composed for Christine and he would always go back and rewrite the score to clean it up. However, this time when he went over the scores for Paris' arias he couldn't bring himself to change anything. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with them.

"You're tired Erik, get some rest and then come back to these. You'll fix them in the morning, maybe even trash them. These can't be that good, Christine didn't inspire me to compose these and she is always my inspiration. Paris is a sweet child but she shouldn't be inspiring me this way! I just need to rest, that's all," Erik muttered to himself as he stood up and made his way to his bedroom. A short while later Erik was in bed dreaming of Paris.


	3. Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

**

Paris stood off to the side of the stage hidden in the shadows as she waited for everyone to leave. She was going to get some extra practice in and she wanted the stage to her self. When the auditorium was empty Paris put on her toe shoes and tentatively stepped out on to the stage. She struck the opening pose and waited for the music to start playing in her mind. As soon as she heard the music she began to move. Her movements were very smooth and graceful, very catlike.

Unbeknownst to Paris Erik was up in Box Five watching her. It was a few days after he had spoken to her from behind Christine's dressing room mirror and when he had woken up the next morning and gone over the scores he had composed for Paris he had, much to his surprise and consternation, discovered that the scores were still perfect but he couldn't bring himself to throw them away. So now he watched her dancing on the stage and admired her movements. Christine had never been that graceful but then again Christine's talents lay in her singing more than her dancing.

When Paris finished her dance she sat down at the edge of the stage with her feet dangling into the orchestra pit. Erik made his way down to the stage and silently made his way up to her from behind. He was about six feet from her when she turned around and just looked at him. He froze.

"How did you know I was here?" He questioned her out loud even though he knew she couldn't hear him. However, she seemed to know what he was asking for she gave a small smile and stood up. Motioning for him to put his hand down on the stage floor she waited for him to do so. Then she stomped on the stage making it vibrate and motioned with her hand that she felt the vibrations when he was walking on the stage. Erik straightened up and nodded indicated that he understood.

"Funny," he muttered, "I didn't realize I walked with so much vibration in my steps. I guess your other senses are more honed now since you can't speak or hear."

Paris just stared at Erik with her hands clasped behind her back as he spoke. After a few minutes Erik looked at her frowning in thought. Paris waited for him to speak again. When he did he made gestures to help get his points across.

"You don't even know who I am and yet you don't seem to be afraid."

Paris grinned and shook her head. She began to make motions to indicate that she did know who he was. First she made flying motions with her arms to indicate wings then put her hands above her head and made a halo. Then she pantomimed singing. Next she put her hand over half her face to indicate a mask and then she raised her arms above her head and ran about the stage acting like a ghost. When she finished she looked at Erik with a smile. He just stared at her in shock. She did know who he was; she knew he was the Angel of Music and the Phantom. He had a feeling she could have guessed that he was the Phantom but he didn't know how she knew he was Christine's Angel. He could only guess that Christine must have told Paris who he was.

When he managed to get a hold of himself Erik shook his head with a soft disbelieving laugh. "Well, you do know who I am but I don't think you know my name. Do you want to know my name?" Erik had pulled out a note pad and had written his question down for her to read. He knew she could read and write because she had done so while with Christine. According to her she had not always been deaf and mute but a sickness had caused her to be.

Paris nodded even though she already knew his name. Erik gave a skeptical look at her for a moment before he wrote in his rather graceful handwriting on the pad "Erik." Paris looked at the pad for a moment and mouthed the name silently before lifting her grey blue eyes to his. She smiled and held out her hand which Erik slowly took and shook it. Paris gave a big grin and silently laughed. Erik found himself wishing he could hear her actually laugh.

Pulling out his pocket watch Erik glanced at the time. "It's late, you should be home," he said softly as he showed Paris the time. Paris' smile faded slightly and she nodded reluctantly. Erik, however, felt guilty about just letting her return home unescorted. "Umm, would you like me to escort you home? It's too dangerous out on the streets at this time of night for you."

Paris watched Erik try to pantomime what it was he was saying and after he finally just wrote down what it was he was asking she smiled and nodded vigorously. She motioned for Erik to wait where he was while she went to get changed. Erik stepped back into the shadows to wait for Paris to return. While he waited he thought about what he was doing and wondered if he was doing the smart thing. However, before he could convince himself that he should not escort Paris home she returned. She came onto the stage and looked around for him. Her smile faded rapidly and was replaced by a frown. Erik watched confused, curious and slightly amused as Paris began to get angry. However, she seemed to be angry at herself and before the tears that Erik saw in Paris' eyes fell, he stepped out from the shadows making sure to stomp so that she would feel his footsteps.

Paris spun around and when she saw Erik her smile suddenly reappeared and she threw herself at him. Erik caught her, surprised by her actions. No one had ever willingly wanted to be touched by him and now she was actually welcoming and initiating the holding. When she finally stepped out of Erik's arms she looked up at him and wiped the tears off of her cheeks. Erik frowned at that.

"Why the tears, little one?" he asked softly as he wiped a stray tear with his finger. Paris just looked at him before to his surprise and horror she reached forward and began rummaging through his jacket. She pulled out the pad and began to write upon it.

"You were gone. I thought you had left and had decided not to walk me home. I thought I had scared you off."

Erik looked at her response before laughing softly. "I never go back on my word unless I absolutely have to. Walking you home is not a bother."

Paris read his answer and blushed. She then accepted the arm Erik offered and he led her out of the Opera House. Following her directions, Erik walked Paris to her flat and made sure she was safely inside her room before he pulled out his pad again. "You know who I am and yet you do not appear to be afraid of me. Would you like to join me and Christine when I give her her lessons? I think having a familiar face with her would help her to get over her fear of coming down to my home with me."

Paris read the note and felt her heart sink slightly. He only wanted her to come down with him to keep Christine company not because he wanted her for her company. However, she schooled her features and smiled up at him and nodded. Erik smiled then left as silently as a shadow to return to the Opera House and contemplate his and her actions.

The next day after rehearsals Paris followed Christine to her dressing room and waited. Christine looked at Paris with fear obvious in her eyes. Grabbing a piece of paper Christine began to write down that Paris had to leave. However, before Christine had finished her note she heard his voice.

"What are you doing Christine? Mademoiselle Aldress has agreed to join us in your daily lessons from now on. We had a little run in yesterday and she apparently has figured out who exactly I am and is not afraid. I have asked her to join us to keep you company."

"But Ang…er...Erik, she hasn't seen your face! You know that as soon as she does she will react the same way I did! No, I will not allow you to endanger her in any way and that includes bringing her into this farce of a music lesson!" Christine cried out.

"Paris can make her own decisions, Christine. She is not a child any more. She had opportunity enough to remove my mask yesterday but she did not. I'd like to think she has more resistance than you are giving her credit for. Besides, she knew about your music lessons since she had been joining you every day when I first came to you. She knows all about it so she is already involved. Now come, we are wasting time."

Paris watched as the mirror swung back and revealed a dark passageway. Erik stood in the entry and held out a hand for Christine and Paris before closing the mirror. He led the two women down dark and twisting passageways until they reached the lake. Christine and Paris were helped into the boat that rested on the shore and then Erik stepped in and began to pole them across the lake.

They reached the opposite shore in a matter of minutes and Erik helped the women out of the boat. Then he turned towards the stone wall and pressed a hidden switch. A section of the wall opened and a flight of stone steps appeared in the opening. Erik led the women up the steps and Paris saw that at the end there was a large wooden door which Erik opened with a key. Stepping into the room Paris gasped silently. The door opened up into a beautiful living room/parlor. A large fireplace was situated at the far end of the room with a beautiful Persian rug on the floor in front of it. A large black throne like chair sat on one side of the fireplace with a large curving leather couch on the other side. A side table stood by the chair and one stood by the couch. Two huge book shelves filled with books stood against the wall on either side of the fireplace. Paris saw that off to the left there was a door way and a hallway. She could see that there were a couple of doors down the hallway so she assumed that there were bedrooms down that hall. The other door was closed so she could only guess what was behind it. Off to the right there was another hallway and another door. This door was open and Paris could see a beautiful pipe organ and the edge of a beautiful ebony grand piano.

"Christine, if you would show Paris to the music room I will be with you both shortly," Erik said. Christine just nodded and led Paris into the room immediately off to the right while Erik turned and went down the hallway immediately off to the left.

Paris admired the music room while she and Christine waited for Erik to return. She saw that there were bookshelves filled with musical scores that she could only assume were written by both Erik and other famous composers. Picking up one of the compositions she looked to see who had composed it. The only indication was a hastily scrawled '_E.B.D._' in the upper left hand corner. Looking at the composition she didn't recognize the score so she could only guess that Erik had composed the piece. Casting a quick glance over at Christine she smiled when she saw that Christine was paying more attention to the door than to Paris. Setting the composition onto the music stand of the piano, Paris sat down and looked over the piece quickly before placing her hands upon the keys and with a loud D minor chord she began to play. Christine turned slowly towards Paris, her blue eyes wide in shock as she watched Paris play. Paris' fingers flew over the piano keys as if she could actually hear the notes she was playing. Erik came running into the room a few seconds later. He had taken off his cloak, hat, gloves and dress coat and his hair was coming loose from the ribbon he usually held it back with. His eyes sought Paris immediately. His jaw dropped when he saw Paris playing one of his more difficult compositions as if it was nothing but a scale. He recognized the piece as being one of the ones he had composed when he had been thinking of her. He had entitled the piece "_Senses of the Night_" and was actually been quite proud of the piece. He waited until Paris had finished the piece before he made his presence known.

"It seems Paris has some musical talent in her." Christine jumped at the sound of his voice and spun to face him. Paris waited a moment before turning around with a smile. It widened when she spotted Erik. Standing up she moved over to the small sofa that rested against one of the walls and settled down to watch Christine and Erik work.

Leaning her head back Paris closed her eyes and let the music and the two voices flow over her. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep with Erik's deep voice floating in her head.

"You're doing better Christine but you still need to concentrate on the music. Put your soul into it. I've heard you do it before so I know you can. But I think that that is enough practice for tonight. You need to rest," Erik said, his voice stern but not harsh as he closed the lid of the piano. Turning he looked at Christine but saw that she was looking at something behind them. Glancing over he saw that she was looking at Paris asleep on the couch. A soft smile touched his lips as he gazed at her.

"She looks so little when she sleeps. I almost forget she's an adult," Christine said softly.

"Mmm, I think it's because she's deaf and mute as well as little in stature. All those combined lend a sense of innocence to her. She can't communicate to us the way we do to each other so she's forced to find some other way and her way is that of a child. She has to use her hands to gesture to what she wants."

"That has to be so hard. She has to make sure whomever she is communicating with is looking at her in order for her to get her point across and even then the message may be unclear."

Erik nodded and stood up. Walking over to the sleeping girl he gently scooped her up into his arms. She snuggled closer to him and a small smile graced her lips as she unconsciously wrapped an arm around his neck. Erik exited the music room and made his way towards the hallway at the far right hand side of the living room. Christine followed close behind.

"Could you open the door, please?" Erik asked softly. Christine opened the door that Erik had pause in front of then stepped back. Erik entered the room and headed for the bed. Christine was surprised that there was another bedroom in Erik's house besides her own and his. This one was done in shades of light blue and black. Erik laid Paris on the bed then turned towards the large wardrobe and opened it. He pulled out a long flannel nightgown and turned towards Christine. "If you would be so kind as to put this on Paris I'm sure she would be much more comfortable."

Christine took the nightgown and nodded. Erik bowed and left the room. Christine then turned to the task at hand with a sigh.


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: Hi, Celticreeder here. Just letting you know that anything that isn't from the Phantom of the Opera story is mine. Also, I have a long weekend so I'm going to give you two chapters! Maybe even a couple more if I feel like it . **

Chapter Four

**

Paris woke to the darkness. At first she froze and began to panic believing she was back with her parents and was locked in the small airless closet where she had sometimes been put as punishment for speaking. However, a quick glance around indicated that she was in a bedroom with no windows. Last night came flooding back to her and she smiled with relief. She was obviously only down in Erik's house. Stretching she climbed out of the bed and looked around for her clothes. She spotted them lying on a chair. Gathering them up she made her way into the bathroom she located and changed. Once changed Paris exited the bed room and looked around. She was in a hallway but looking to her left she spotted the living room so she went that way.

The room was silent and Paris had a feeling that no one else was up. A glance at the mantle clock told her that it was eight fifteen in the morning. Funny, despite his late night activities Paris always pictured Erik as being a morning person. Shrugging she headed over to the door directly across the room and upon opening it she discovered the kitchen. Grinning she set to work making breakfast.

Erik woke to the smell of coffee and sausage. Frowning he opened his eyes and glanced at the clock by his bed. 8:26 in the morning. With a moan he rolled over. It was too early for someone to be up and about. He made it a habit of never getting up before nine thirty unless he absolutely had to. However, now that he was awake the delicious smells coming into his room made his stomach growl. It had been a long time since he had actually eaten anything in the morning. He rarely ate at all if he could help it, just a small snack here or there. But he had a feeling that whomever was cooking breakfast in his kitchen was going to be making sure he actually ate. He hoped to God it wasn't Nadir this time. The last time that damn Persian had been there Erik had nearly thrown the man out into the lake and held his head under the water until he drowned. Erik wondered why that man constantly tormented him when Erik was pretty damn sure he had repaid Nadir for saving his life back in Persia.

Sighing Erik climbed out of bed and ran a hand through his long hair before adjusting his mask and pulling on a robe. Glancing at him self in the mirror and he debated whether or not to put his hair in his normal queue. He decided to. Once he felt he was at least reasonably presentable he exited his room and headed for the kitchen. He was surprised to find Paris running around the kitchen like a little wind up toy fixing breakfast. What surprised him even more was that his Siamese cat Ayesha was draped across Paris' shoulders like a cape. It was a known fact that Ayesha liked no one but Erik and therefore she refused to allow anyone to hold or touch her. Paris turned at one point and caught sight of Erik. A bright smile spread across her face and she held up a finger towards him to indicate that she would be just a minute.

Erik waited patiently for Paris to finish her task of putting the finished sausage on a plate. When she finished she turned towards him with her ever present grin and made her way over towards him. Looking up into his grey blue eyes she slipped her arm through his and led him over to the table to sit down. She had felt Erik stiffen when she had taken his arm but he had relaxed when she did nothing but lead him to the table. Pulling out her note pad and pencil from her pocket she quickly wrote something down for Erik to read.

"I decided to make breakfast so it will be ready if a few minutes. Do you think Christine will be joining us?"

Erik quickly read the note then glanced up at Paris and shrugged. He usually was up before Christine awoke so it was doubtful that the young singer would be up this early to eat. Paris frowned and looked in the direction of the hallway where Christine's room was. Erik could tell that she wanted to go wake Christine and make her eat but she didn't want to disturb Christine's rest.

"I'm sure she'll be fine. She usually isn't up this early, to be frank neither am I," Erik wrote down. Paris read the note and grinned before playfully hitting Erik's shoulder.

"I always pictured you as a morning person. The Dreaded Phantom of the Opera refusing to cause torment for the managers before 8 in the morning!"

Erik laughed when he read her reply before answering, "Actually it would have to be before 9:30 but who cares?"

Paris just smiled and shook her head. Glancing over towards the oven she noticed that the biscuits were done so she turned back to Erik and motioned over towards the food to indicate that she had to deal with breakfast. Erik just nodded and sat back to watch her flit about the kitchen some more. Ayesha had jumped down from Paris' shoulder and had jumped into Erik's lap to be petted by her master.

"She really is something special, isn't she Ayesha? She can always bring a smile to my face and laughter to my heart," Erik commented to his cat before he sighed. "Why can't Christine be like that? Maybe what I need is someone who is a mixture of Christine and Paris but then she wouldn't be either of them. I just have to show Christine that I'm not that bad, and then she'll love me."

All through Erik's conversation with his cat Paris had moved about as if nothing was going on besides breakfast preparations. She couldn't let Erik know that she could hear much less hear what he was saying. Closing her eyes for a moment she took a deep silent breath before pasting her smile back on and turning towards the table with platefuls of food. She set the plates down on the table and then she turned and rummaged around for silverware. Finding some she returned to the table and placed some in front of Erik on either side of the plate in front of him before she sat down herself. She glanced at Erik to see if he was going to actually eat or if he would just sit there and wait for her to then eat when she was gone. She didn't know if he ate with his mask on or not but when his eyes met hers he smiled and raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Is something wrong? If you're waiting on Christine she probably won't be joining us as I already told you," he wrote.

"I'm not waiting on Christine. I'm waiting to see if you will actually eat with me in the room or not. I don't want to force you to if you usually eat without your mask on. I can leave the room if that's what you do, I don't mind," Paris wrote back.

Erik looked shocked at the response but when he raised his eyes to Paris' he saw understanding reflecting in them. His heart constricted at that evidence of caring. Forcing a smile on a suddenly numb face he wrote back, "No, I don't usually eat in fact. When I do I usually wear my mask."

Paris smiled happily back before motioning towards the food to indicate that he should dig in. Erik, with a laugh, did just that.

Paris was washing the dishes a short while later when she and Erik had finished breakfast. Erik stood by the table looking slightly lost before he glanced at all the dirty dishes around the kitchen. With a smile he began to gather the dirty dishes and place them by the sink for Paris to wash. Once they were all there Erik found a dish towel, rolled up the sleeves of his robe and began to dry the dishes that Paris had already washed. She glanced over at him, surprised, for a moment before he looked down at her and winked. Actually winked! Paris just stared in shock before she laughed silently and turned back to washing the dishes. At some point Paris blew a handful of soap bubbles at Erik who retaliated by splashing Paris with the dish water. Christine found them like that a few minutes later. Erik's beautiful robe was soaked and his normally immaculate hair was all wet and full of suds. Paris was just as soaked and was poised with a bowl of dirty water to throw at Erik when Christine entered.

She had heard Erik laughing in joy, a very rare sound for her ears or anybody's ears for that matter, and had become curious and even a bit frightened as to why Erik would be having that much fun. She had grabbed her robe and run out of her bedroom and down the hall towards the kitchen where she could hear the laughter coming from. She had not been prepared to find Erik and Paris soaked to the skin and laughing and playing like children in Erik's usually tidy kitchen. Christine eyed the two with a curious expression all the while an amused smile tugged at her lips. Erik was the first to notice Christine and he froze when he saw her. He looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. However, Paris didn't seem to notice Christine just yet and took advantage of Erik's distraction.

"Erik, look out!" Christine shouted her voice laced with laughter. Erik turned just in time to get a complete bowl of dirty dish water poured all over him. The room went suddenly silent while Erik stood there in the middle of the wet kitchen floor looking like a drowned cat. Paris stood with wide eyes and her hands covering her mouth trying to hide her grin. Christine tried to get her legs to turn her body around and get out of the kitchen as fast as possible.

Erik slowly turned towards Paris, his eyes narrowed and with his hair dripping down into his face he looked rather menacing. Paris swallowed hard and before anyone could blink she had darted away with Erik in hot pursuit. Christine jumped out of the way as the two raced past her. Christine would have been afraid for her friend if she hadn't seen the glitter of amusement in Erik's eyes as he had raced after the young ballerina. Christine laughed and turned to watch from the safety of the kitchen door way as Erik chased Paris around the house. When Erik finally caught the little sprite of a girl he tackled her to the floor and wrung the water out of his robe all over her. Paris squirmed as hard as she could to get away from Erik's "torture" but she made no sound whatsoever. Erik suddenly froze and looked down at their predicament. He was straddling Paris while she writhed and wiggled beneath him. Erik felt himself becoming aroused at her innocent movements and he knew he had to stop everything before he did something he would regret. Bolting up to his feet he stood over Paris, breathing hard. She looked up at him, her smile fading slowly as she saw the heated look in Erik's eyes. However, he quickly turned around and spoke to Christine.

"Christine, I apologize for this display of childishness. I will go change quickly and then see to returning you and Mademoiselle Aldress back to the Opera House." Erik then bowed and hurried towards his room.

"You don't need to apologize for your behavior earlier Erik, I…I actually think it's good for you to enjoy yourself like that. I get the feeling you haven't had fun like that in a very long time. I'm sure Paris envies me for being able to hear your laughter. You…uh, you have a very nice laugh," Christine said, her cheeks flooding with color at her admission. Erik glanced from Christine to Paris who had slowly stood back up and was staring at him with confused and slightly hurt eyes. He realized that his behavior had been rather confusing and abrupt so he gave her a smile and mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' to her. Paris smiled back shakily before turning and hurrying to the kitchen. Erik had a feeling she was going to clean up the mess and probably get Christine something to eat.

Erik entered his bedroom and closed the door with a sigh. He was becoming too attached to Paris. She was a wonderful friend and she always knew how to make him feel better but he was in love with Christine. However, as he thought back to what had just happened, his and Paris' playfulness had shown Christine that he could be fun. He wasn't a monster all the time and she had even said that he had a nice laugh. That though brought a smile to his face as he crossed over to his wardrobe and gathered his usual attire of black dress pants, white dress shirt, gray vest, black evening coat, black boots, white gloves and his black velvet cloak. He entered his bathroom and quickly bathed before dressing. By the time he had finished tying his black hair back into the queue he could hear Christine talking to Paris in the living room. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror he picked up his black fedora and left his room.

Christine turned towards him when he entered the room which caused Paris to turn as well. Erik noticed that Paris was wearing one of the dresses he had had made for Christine. It was a soft light blue morning gown with a tight bodice, full skirt and long sleeves with a scoop neck. She had obviously taken a quick bath for her skin was rosy and her hair was wet and shiny. Of course it could just be embarrassment making her cheeks rosy and the dishwater making her hair wet, Erik decided but deep down he had a feeling that Paris had bathed.

"Have you eaten Christine?"

"Yes, Paris made me some eggs and sausage that was very good. She took a bath while I cleaned up those dishes. I was afraid of what might happen if I allowed her to do the task." Christine's eyes twinkled teasingly as she made that last comment. Erik gave a small smile before he placed his fedora at a roguish angle to hide his mask on his head.

"Shall we?" He bowed to the two women, his arm sweeping out towards the way of the front door to indicate that he wished the girls to precede him. Paris and Christine made their way towards the front door and soon the three were on their way out of the catacombs beneath the Paris Opera House.


	5. Chapter Five

**

Chapter Five

**

For the next few weeks Christine worked with Erik to learn the songs for the up coming production of '_Il Muto_'. Erik had been sending notes to the managers that Christine was to perform the role of the Countess, the lead, but so far the managers had said nothing about going along with that decision. They had persuaded their current leading woman the famous 'La Carlotta' into staying with the Opera company when she had threatened to quit if Christine was cast as the lead by saying that La Carlotta was the only woman qualified to perform the role. She was, after all, the Prima Donna and the woman the audience wanted to see and hear.

Paris had not been pleased when she had heard that decision. Erik would most definitely be livid when he heard the news. Paris, however, just went about pretending that nothing was wrong and that she knew nothing about the disastrous plans going on. Paris also knew that Christine was becoming more and more afraid of Erik. He had been getting testier with her. Christine had apparently been spending more time with Raoul and Erik was not pleased with that at all. Paris rarely went down with Erik and Christine to Erik's house below the Opera House due to the fact that Paris wasn't always free to do so. She had to work on the dance routines more than she had ever had to do so for any dance routine before. She was slowly driving herself to exhaustion because of it. Paris didn't know what to do for Christine or Erik. She loved Erik and loved Christine as a friend but because Christine seemed to be only thinking of herself and her own wants and needs she was hurting those around her. Erik was hurt due to Christine's involvement with Raoul and Christine didn't even seem to notice that Erik loved her. Christine was hurting Raoul by not making any definite decisions about anything regarding the two of them. One minute she seemed to be genuinely happy to be with him and then other times she was pushing him away as if she was too good for him. And lastly Christine was hurting Paris with her cruelty to Erik. Paris hated that Christine had the affections of two men, one whom Paris loved deeply, and Christine only seemed to be leading them around by a leash and not doing anything with them.

As the night of the opening performance of '_Il Muto_' drew nearer Paris had a feeling that Erik would not be sitting calmly in his seat in Box 5 to watch La Carlotta butcher the leading female role. No, Paris had a sinking suspicion that Erik would be thinking of some way to get rid of La Carlotta as well as replacing her with Christine. Paris wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and finished lacing up her toe shoes. Standing up she glanced up at Box 5 and wished that Erik was up there watching her. If only he would show her the love that he showered on Christine, a girl who couldn't care less that Erik cared for her. With a sigh Paris stood up and got into position with the rest of the ballet rats and practice began again.

Unbeknownst to Paris Erik sat in Box 5 watching her. He had needed a break from tormenting the managers and teaching Christine and watching Paris dance never failed to calm his nerves and relax him. He missed spending time with Paris. At first she had joined him and Christine when he took Christine down to his home for practice but as work on '_Il Muto_' had progressed Paris' free time had quickly diminished. He frowned as he watched Paris tonight though. She didn't seem as graceful and she looked thinner. Leaning forward slightly he saw that she was very tired. Dark circles could be seen beneath her eyes even from way up in Box 5 where Erik was seated. This was not good. If this continued she would collapse from exhaustion. And just as Erik rose to head down to the stage he saw Paris stumble and fall. Erik felt his heart leap to his throat when another dancer accidentally fell onto Paris quite painfully. The theater went quiet for a second before all the girls rushed over to their fallen dancer. Erik was already making his way down through passageways to reach her. He prayed to the God that he had long ago given up belief in that Paris was all right. Although, knowing her she would be up on her feet and dancing an Irish jig by the time he got down to the stage.

Paris was being helped off stage by one of the other ballet girls when Erik reached the small opening in the wall just off Stage Right. He watched as the girl wrote something down for Paris to read. From where he was located he couldn't tell what it was but Paris' reply seemed to placate the girl who smiled and hurried back to practice.

"She didn't sleep well last night, Madame Giry. She says not to worry she knows the steps by heart by now."

Madame Giry glanced over at Paris, a frown on her face. "Well, I hope so other wise this dance will not be balanced correctly." Madame Giry made her way quickly over towards the resting Paris and took the girl's notepad and pencil. "Go home and rest child, but be here tomorrow ready to dance. I can not have you collapsing like this again."

Paris read the note and nodded to Madame Giry before rising to her feet and making her way to her dressing room. Erik followed by way of the hidden passageways. He had seen what Madame Giry had written due to the fact that he had moved closer to Paris' resting place. He waited behind the mirror while Paris changed before he activated the mechanism and entered the room. Paris was lacing up her boots when Erik entered and so she didn't see him enter. However, he made his way up to her so that she would see the tips of his shoes in her vision. When she did she started and looked up quickly. Seeing Erik she grinned at him. Erik, however, was not fooled. He saw how pale and gaunt she looked making the dark circles under her gray blue eyes even darker. He pulled out his note book and a pencil and wrote something down.

"You have been very negligent with your health Mademoiselle. As your friend, I can not let you continue in this manner. Therefore, I shall walk you home and no arguing."

Paris read his note and smiled a tired smile as she nodded. Paris gathered her belongings and then left with Erik.

Opening night of '_Il Muto_' arrived and as Paris had known would happen La Carlotta was to perform the Countess with Christine as the page boy, the silent role. Paris had watched off stage with the other ballet girls while the show was performed. It wasn't long before the Phantom made his displeasure known. As it turned out Raoul had decided to watch the performance from the Phantom's box, Box 5 and Erik was none too pleased about that. Well, due to Erik's rather loud complaint Christine heard him and, in fear, spoke on stage. Carlotta was not pleased about that at all and told Christine to "Shut up you little toad!"

While Carlotta may have wanted that comment to have been for Christine's ears only it was loud enough to be carried all the way to Erik's ears. He took her comment and ran with it.

"A toad, Madame? Perhaps it is you who is the toad?"

Needless to say Carlotta was a bit shaken up by that but she persevered and told the maestro to begin at the beginning of the song. Erik decided to mess around with La Carlotta and so through out the song he made the poor woman croak like a toad. Carlotta ran screaming off stage with Erik's comment about Carlotta singing to bring down the chandelier ringing through out the theater. Everyone had looked up and saw that the chandelier was gently shaking on its cables. Paris had a very bad feeling about that chandelier.

One of the managers, Paris believed it was Monsieur Firmin, ran out on stage and told the audience not to panic and that Christine Daaé would be singing the role of the Countess and that for the meantime the ballet girls would perform the ballet from Act three. All the ballet girls hurried on stage and began to dance but Paris had a feeling that Erik was up to something. Just then one of the girls screamed in terror and the music stopped as chaos filled the auditorium. Paris had to keep dancing for a few seconds before she saw an opportunity to stop. Looking wildly around she heard Christine call for Raoul who immediately hurried down to her. Paris heard Christine tell Raoul to go with her up to the roof where they would be safer. Paris only shook her head at that. Erik knew this Opera House like the back of his hand; he would know where Christine went. Paris also heard that the reason young Jennet had screamed was because the strangled body of the scene shifter, Joseph Buquet, had fallen down from the rafters. Paris closed her eyes for a moment before she ran off in pursuit of Christine, Raoul and most likely Erik.

Paris, thankfully, knew a more direct route to the roof and so she reached it a few minutes ahead of Christine and Raoul. Looking around she looked for a hiding place. Just then a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her up into the golden Apollo statue. It was Erik. Paris gazed into his eyes as he motioned for her to lay low and to remain quiet. As if that was going to be a problem, she thought sarcastically. They didn't have long to wait for a few seconds later Christine and Raoul burst onto the roof.

Erik and Paris listened while Christine told Raoul about Erik and everything that had happened since he had pretended to be her Angel of Music. Paris felt her heart break for Erik as Christine went on to tell Raoul how Erik was a deformed monster, barely a man. She felt Erik's body tense up and begin to shake with his repressed emotions as he listened to the woman he loved tell her lover how she couldn't stand to be in the same room with Erik. Paris had to physically restrain Erik when he choked out her name and he would have done more had Paris not quickly covered his mouth with her hands and shaken her head frantically at him not to do anything. Paris was thankful that she had been watching Erik at the time he had spoken otherwise she would not have been able to explain how she knew he had spoken if she supposedly couldn't hear.

Paris held onto Erik tightly for the rest of the conversation between Raoul and Christine. Raoul had proposed to Christine and she had accepted. That had torn Erik's heart apart even more and he had clung desperately to Paris until the lovers had left the rooftop to return down. Christine would sing the lead as a good bye to Erik then she and Raoul would run off together for a while.

"I gave her my music, Paris. Why couldn't she see how much I loved her? She took my music and threw everything back into my face," Erik said softly.

Paris gently placed a hand on his arm until he looked down at her. She stared up at him and gently placed a hand over her heart and then placed her hand over his. She smiled sadly up at him and mouthed the word 'friend' to him. Erik understood and he gave a trembling smile in return but it quickly faded and his eyes hardened. Paris knew his thoughts had returned to Christine and her 'insolent boy'.

"They will curse the day they did not do everything the Phantom asked of them," he growled and with a swirl of his cloak he ran back into the Opera House. Paris' eyes widened at his comment and with fear in her heart she hurried after him.

Paris arrived just in time to see Christine performing the leading role right where the show had left off. She breathed a sigh of relief that Erik hadn't done anything yet however, no sooner had she expelled the breath when she was sucking in another one of fear. Erik was repeating his threat now, loudly, throughout the auditorium and then began to laugh manically. Paris watched in horror as the giant crystal chandelier began to sway and she heard the cables snap as Erik cut them. With a deafening snap the chandelier began to hurtle down towards the stage. Right towards Christine!

Paris didn't think, she just acted. She ran across the stage and slammed herself hard against Christine knocking her far out of the way just as the chandelier hit the stage with a sickening crash. Paris was caught in the debris and all she could think as her world went black and Erik's pain and horror filled cry of "Paris, no!" filled her foggy mind was that at least she could say she went out with a bang. Then darkness took her mind and she knew no more.


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: Sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter up. I'm finishing up my Junior Year of College right now so papers and projects have been my top priority right now. So to make it up to you I will be posting three chapters including this one. So, enjoy 

**

Chapter Six

**

The first thing Paris knew when she regained consciousness was that her whole body was screaming in pain and voices were being magnified greatly and yet the words were muffled. With a silent moan she slowly and carefully tried to open her eyes. Thankfully the room she was in was dark enough to allow her eyes to adjust to the room but bright enough for her to see that she was being watched by the managers, Madame Giry and an older man with grey hair, a mustache and twinkling blue eyes framed by a pair of spectacles.

"Ah, so you have decided to rejoin the land of the living have you?" the older man smiled.

"Monsieur _le doctor_, she is deaf and mute. She doesn't understand what you are saying. You have to write it down," Madame Giry spoke up softly. The doctor flushed and laughed before he pulled out a pad and pencil.

"Mademoiselle Aldress you are very lucky to be alive. I'm afraid we nearly lost you a few times. Do you remember what happened?"

Paris read the note and very carefully nodded.

"Good, then there is no problem with memory lapse. However, I'm afraid your injuries are very serious. You have a dislocated shoulder, quite a few broken ribs, and your right arm is broken as are both your legs. You have several serious cuts which had to be stitched up. I don't know if you'll ever be able to dance again, at least not the same way you did that night. I was very impressed with your talent. However, I'm afraid you will have to remain in bed for quite some time until you are completely healed. We can get you home and there you will be more comfortable. Do you know of anyone who can check in on you from time to time or even stay with you until you are well enough to move about on your own?"

Paris read the doctor's note and felt her heart twist painfully at the words. Never dance again? That was just not possible; dancing was her career, she didn't know if she could do anything else due to her predicament. Pretending to be deaf and mute did not allow many job opportunities to come knocking. She had been lucky to receive a job as a dancer. Now to learn that she may never be able to dance on stage again was just too much. Tears began to silently trickle down her cheeks as she painfully wrote with her left hand that she did have someone to take care of her. Her neighbor down the hall of her flat had just lost her baby to Scarlet Fever and was still trying to get over the loss. She would be very pleased to be able to take care of someone.

The doctor nodded after reading Paris' note. He turned to the managers and Madame Giry to speak to them. "If I could speak privately with all of you for a moment I believe there are a few things that need to be discussed about Mademoiselle Aldress' predicament."

After the four of them were out of the room Paris closed her eyes and tried to think of what to do. When she opened them again she came face to face with Erik. He stood over her, his eyes filled with pain and worry. Slowly he knelt down next to Paris and carefully took her left hand in his.

"I am so sorry, Paris. I never meant for any of this to happen to you. Christine was right; I should not have gotten you involved like this. If there is anything I can do for you don't hesitate to ask."

Paris hated having to pretend that she didn't know what Erik was saying but she didn't have to pretend that she knew he was apologizing. Giving a small smile she pointed at the notepad lying next to the bed. Erik picked it up immediately and wrote down what he had said quickly, all the while glancing nervously at the door. He had locked it but he knew the doctor and the others would not remain out in the hall for long so Erik had to move quickly.

"There is nothing to apologize for Erik. I leapt into the line of fire, so to speak, on my own. Christine wasn't going to move on her own so I had to help. I just wish you hadn't used violence to express your anger like that. Maybe you could visit me sometimes; I'd like that." Paris really wished that her right hand was not out of commission. Writing with her left hand was painful due to the recently dislocated shoulder and it took too long to form the letters.

"I can do better than that; I can take care of you the whole time. It's the least I can do after all the pain I have caused you," Erik quickly wrote.

"Oh, Erik, you don't have to do that. I don't want to take away your time for composing and the other things that you do."

"No, I'm the one who's responsible for your being in this situation. I will take care of you and that is that."

"Okay, but not on Saturdays. I already told the doctor that one of my neighbors could take care of me. He'll become suspicious if I don't give him a note or something to take over to Madame Blanche asking her to come over."

Erik read Paris' response and nodded. He could hear the doctor and the others ending their conversation so he acted quickly. He gave Paris a quick kiss on the forehead, unlocked the door, and disappeared through the mirror just as the doctor entered.

"Well, Mademoiselle Aldress all I need is your address and a note to your neighbor. Then we will get you carefully home. Monsieur Firmin had gone to get a carriage for you."

Paris read the doctor's note and as quickly as she could with her left hand she wrote down her address and handed it to the doctor. Then she wrote a note to Madame Blanche but made sure to keep the note out of the doctor's sight so that he couldn't see that she was asking Madame Blanche to only tend to Paris on Saturdays. When she finished the note she folded it up and wrote Madame Blanche's name on the front and handed it to the doctor. He smiled and slipped the note into his pocket then he filled a small cup of Laudanum for her to drink.

"This will knock you out for a short while just so you won't be in any pain while we are getting you home," the doctor wrote down when Paris looked curiously at the cup. She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief when she read his note. A few minutes later Paris was unconscious and being carefully taken out of the dressing room and out towards the awaiting carriage. No one noticed the silent black shadow following close behind.

When once again Paris came to she was in her own bed and the room was dark save for a single candle burning on her dresser. She had no idea what time it was and her curtains were drawn so she couldn't tell if it was night or day. A sound in the doorway alerted Paris that someone was in her house. Turning her head slowly towards the doorway she saw Erik enter with a tray in his hands. He smiled when he saw that she was awake.

Paris looked at him in confusion as she tried to figure out he had gotten into her house without anyone seeing him. He must have understood her confusion for he laughed and set the tray down on the bedside table to pull out a notepad and pencil.

"I came in through the open window in the living room. I waited until the doctor was gone. He left a note for Madame Blanche regarding everything she needs to do while taking care of you. I copied the list for myself so that I'll know what to do. Now, I've brought you some food, are you hungry?"

Paris nodded with a soft smile when she read the note. She was indeed quite hungry. So she sat back and Erik spoon fed her the soup he had prepared. She was rather surprised at how well Erik could cook but she guessed that since he lived alone for so long that he had to learn how or starve. When she got down all she could Erik made her swallow some more Laudanum that the doctor had said was needed for any pain she would be in. A short while later Paris fell asleep leaving Erik to sit and watch over her. He was still rather confused as to why Paris had risked her life like that. Christine was not in the way of the falling chandelier, was she? At the angle he had been cutting the cables the chandelier should have fallen near the front of the stage, far enough away from Christine and even the musicians in the orchestra pit. However, if Paris had said that Christine was in the way then maybe his anger had clouded his mind enough that he hadn't been able to see that Christine was indeed in the line of the chandelier's fall.

Sighing he reached over and gently grasped Paris' limp hand in his own. She was the only one he felt comfortable enough with to actually touch in such a manner. Christine had always seemed so scared and distant that Erik had never felt confident enough to reach over and hold her hand. He had a feeling she would have stiffened up in fear but would have been too kind to tell him to let go. He had always had to seduce her with his voice in order to have any form of physical contact with her and even then, that contact had been brief and only used when necessary. Paris had practically pulled Erik's arms around her into the numerous hugs she had given him. She never seemed disturbed by his touches; in fact she had always seemed very happy whenever he did touch her.

Erik smiled as he recalled all the times he and Paris had acted like children whenever she was down in his home during the times whenever he took Christine down for her lessons. Christine had always looked fearful that Paris would push Erik too far and he would lash out at both women. However, Paris only had to smile or hug Erik and any foul mood that he had started to find himself in would disappear. Paris had become so dear to Erik and his sanity that should anything happen to her he didn't know what he would do. He had lost Christine to that damn Vicomte de Chagny but knowing that Paris would be there to give him a shoulder to cry on and a comforting hug had made the loss more bearable. But now Paris was in pain and had nearly died because of his foolishness. Tears filled his eyes and slowly trickled down his face. He would not let anything happen to Paris again.


	7. Chapter Seven

**

Chapter Seven

**

For the next few weeks Erik tended to Paris. He made sure she ate well and was well rested. He had nearly had a heart attack when during the first week Paris had decided that she needed a bath. Erik had stared at her with his eyes opened wide in horror and he had nearly fled from her flat but she had laughed that silent laugh of hers and had told Erik that she would have Madame Blanche bathe her on Saturday so Erik had nothing to worry about. From that day on Paris always bathed on Saturday, much to Erik's relief.

They had also grown closer. Erik had learned that Paris knew sign language and he had asked her to teach him. So once Paris could use her right arm again she carefully began to teach Erik sign language. He was surprised how difficult it was to learn the language but he practiced every chance he had and was pleased whenever Paris smiled and nodded indicating that he had successfully learned another sign. So, slowly but surely he was able to communicate with Paris without having to write everything down. Of course he would occasionally mess up a sign and Paris would stare at him in confusion and he would have to try again. Some times she would understand what it was he was trying to say and would then help him fix his mistakes which always made Erik feel better. She was always patient with him and never became cross or annoyed whenever he messed up or had to have her repeat the movements over and over again until he got the sign down. However, he never overtaxed her. He made sure that if she began to become tired that she rested.

Erik hated whenever he had to leave in the evenings and on Saturday. He would have preferred to stay with her at night in case she ever needed anything but she had told him that it would be best if he didn't stay. Her neighbors would become suspicious and she didn't want to have to explain anything. So every evening around midnight Erik left and returned as soon as possible. He always went back to his home beneath the Opera House and tended to what ever needed tending to. Usually that included feeding Ayesha, dusting occasionally and he always worked on his opera: '_Don Juan Triumphant_'. Although, after about the third week of Paris being bed ridden she had told Erik that he should bring Ayesha with him so the cat wouldn't get lonely. Erik had agreed and soon Ayesha began spending her time in Paris' flat and keeping the young girl company.

Paris was slowly beginning to dread the time when she would be well enough to get out of bed and go about her normal activities again because that would mean that Erik would return to his home beneath the Opera House and she wouldn't see him as often. She might not even see him at all if what the doctor had said was true and that she would never be able to dance again. So, she decided she would start keeping her voice limber should she ever truly need to use it again. She always practiced scales softly whenever Erik or Madame Blanche were not with her. She prayed she wouldn't have to resort to using her voice but just in case she practiced.

Erik had also slowly been working on exercises with her that would help her leg muscles regain their strength back. They were painful at first but as she slowly worked the muscles over and over again they began to stretch and she could slowly feel her legs getting back to normal. They always had to be careful since her legs were still healing from being broken but the doctor had said that the one good thing about the breaks was that they were clean and the bones had not shattered. Paris had missed being crushed completely by the chandelier and that she was thankful for.

She was, however, having fun teaching Erik sign language. She enjoyed watching him practice the signs and she always smiled whenever he would get a sign right and he would rejoice like a child getting a difficult math problem completed correctly. She knew that Erik was a very intelligent man and that he knew several foreign languages besides his native French. He had told her that he had learned Persian while he had lived there for a few years working for the Shah, or the prince of Persia. Erik did not have fond memories of Persia and so he told very few stories about his stay there. He knew English and even some Russian but not enough for him to speak it fluently he had told her with a smile. He also knew Spanish and Romanian due to his life as a Gypsy Caravan attraction. Paris had held him tightly in her arms when he had told her of his life as a freak. Paris had a feeling it was easier for him to tell her about his life on paper than it would have been telling her out loud.

And so Paris learned all about Erik while he took care of her. She always missed him greatly whenever he left for the evening and Saturday but she couldn't bring herself to ask him to stay during the night for fear that she would reveal her feelings for him or that he would find her crying into her pillow at night. She always cried when he left for she knew that Erik would not pay attention to her as much once she was mostly healed. So she had told him a lie in which he couldn't stay the nights because she didn't want her neighbors to become suspicious of a man staying the night with her. She didn't know whether to be thankful that she could hide her feelings behind her words on paper or not. After all, if she said something to Erik on paper he couldn't hear the undertone of the words because she didn't say them with her voice. Turning her head Paris stared out the window in her bedroom and sighed sadly.

Three months later Paris was told by Doctor Price that she could finally get out of bed and practice walking. Her healing had taken longer that he had expected due to the fact that she had damaged some of her leg muscles in the crash that he hadn't noticed before and so due to Paris working on her muscle exercises while the muscles had been damaged she had caused the damage to get worse. Paris had also had a couple of other breaks that the doctor hadn't caught before and had had to break the bones again and set them correctly so that they would heal correctly. He had apologized to her about that numerous times but Paris just gave a tired smile and waved his apologies off.

Paris had laughed when Erik found out the news about the doctor's lack of observation for he had been quite livid. Paris, however, had pouted and asked him if he was mad because Paris was in pain for longer than she should have been or was he mad because he now had to spend more time with her? Erik's anger had deflated immediately and he had rushed to Paris' side and told her that he was mad at the doctor for causing her more pain, not because he had to spend more time with her. Paris had just looked at him for a moment before smiling and enveloping his hand in her own.

Now Paris was taking her first faulting steps out of the bedroom. Erik hovered nearby like a protective shield or, Paris thought with a grin, an over-protective mother. Paris made it into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Erik was immediately by her signing to her asking if she was all right. Paris just nodded as she breathed deeply. That short trek had taken quite a bit of her energy. Erik was not happy with her. So he scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to bed.

"You will stay here until I deem you well enough to get up and move," he signed.

"How will I ever be well enough if I don't get out and move? I need to use my muscles in order to make them stronger again, Erik. Staying in bed will only keep them weak," Paris signed back. She was thankful that Erik had been such a quick learner that she didn't have to repeat anything very much anymore. She did, however, sign slower than she normally did just to make sure he did understand what she was saying.

Erik just stood there silently for a moment before he gave a growl and then signed for Paris to get up and start moving. If movement was what she wanted, then move she had better do. Paris grinned happily at him before she scooted out of bed and once again began the short trek from her bed to the living room.

For the next month Paris practiced walking and Erik even began to help her with some exercises that would hopefully help her dance again. Paris prayed to God that she would eventually be able to dance again. Erik teasingly complained that she had to dance again so that she could perform the role of the gypsy in his opera. That had been all the encouragement Paris needed to get her to practice the exercises with determination.

One Saturday Madame Blanche brought in Paris' mail and Paris had nearly dropped the letters. There on the very top was a letter from Christine. Paris bit her lip nervously as she stared at it. Why was Christine writing to her after so long? Paris put the letter off to the side until later that evening. She didn't want to read it with Madame Blanche in the room. So when Madame Blanche left for the evening Paris pulled the letter out and quickly opened it.

"_Dear Paris,  
I know I haven't written since I left and I am so sorry for not staying to see how you were after the accident with the chandelier but Raoul said it was best that we leave while Erik was distracted. I have recently learned that you are doing much better thanks to letters from Madame Giry so I am glad about that. Raoul and I are engaged but please don't say anything to Erik about it. I feel terrible about leaving him like that but I was scared. I am returning to the opera company after the New Year Masquerade. Raoul has been invited and we will be attending. Oh I hope you will be well enough to go, I so dearly wish to see you again. I must go but I will visit and you must come to the wedding when we have decided on a date.  
Your friend,  
Christine Daaé._"

Paris looked up slowly from the letter. Christine was returning and she was engaged to the Vicomte. Erik must not know, Christine had said. How little she knew Erik. He would know the minute she was back in Paris and he would not welcome her with open arms, of that Paris was sure. But she didn't know whether to tell Erik that Christine was engaged or not. Sure she and Erik had heard Raoul propose to Christine but it hadn't exactly been a marriage proposal, more of a 'runaway with me' proposal. Looking once again over the letter Paris stood up and threw it and the envelope away into the fire. She couldn't risk Erik finding out about it that way. Erik might think Paris was keeping things from him and that would ruin their relationship: the one that Paris had come to treasure so much.

During the fifth month that Paris had been staying in her home she was practicing some of the dance steps that she had learned for '_Il Muto_'. She had slowly been progressing her steps to harder and harder dance steps until she could turn her legs out completely with out any pain. She could do the splits again and _plié_ with no problem. She had worked up to the point where she could do all the ballet steps except dance _en pointe_. So one day she took a deep breath and slowly rose up onto her toes. Erik entered the flat just then with his arms filled with groceries. He glanced over at Paris and did a double take when he saw what she was doing. Dumping the groceries onto the table he rushed over to her just as her right ankle gave out beneath her and she crumpled painfully to the floor. Erik caught her before she hit it and held her in his arms tightly.

"Oh God, Paris don't ever scare me like that again," he breathed against her neck as he waited for his heartbeat to return to normal. Paris wrapped her arms tightly around Erik's neck and let the tears flow silently down her cheeks. She was so tired of not being able to dance and now it looked like she wasn't going to be able to ever again.

Erik gathered Paris up into his arms and carried her over to the couch where he sat down with her sitting in his lap. He gently rocked her back and forth while she cried. When she had calmed down Erik turned her so that she could see him signing.

"Paris, everything will be all right. You just need to keep practicing the steps. You didn't learn _en pointe_ in one day did you when you first learned it did you?"

Paris sniffed and shook her head while Erik gently wiped the tears off of her cheeks.

"See, you have to learn all over again. But please do it when I'm around. I don't want to come home and find you collapsed on the floor in pain or worse because I wasn't here to make sure you didn't do anything harmful to yourself."

"I don't think I can. Dance I mean. Doctor Price was right; I've done too much damage to my body to ever be able to dance like I did. I should just give up and try to find some other job," Paris signed dejectedly.

"Paris, look at me. You will dance again, I promise you. I…I actually almost gave up my music once. I didn't think I could ever be any good for anyone. What was the point of being a wonderfully talented musician if no one wanted to hear me play because they couldn't stand my face? So I stopped composing for nearly a year and just wandered around Europe. It wasn't until I was in Persia did I find a reason to start composing again. I knew a lot about medicine at the time and the chief of the Persian police, Nadir Khan, well, he had a dying son whom meant the world to him after his beloved wife passed on. Anyway, Nadir asked me to look at his son and see if there was anything I could do for him. I couldn't but I did try to make the boy's pain more bearable. I would mix potions for him to drink that would numb his pain and for a while that was all I did. However, the boy eventually asked me to sing for him. I hadn't sung in a long time and so I was a bit reluctant to do so but I eventually granted his request. I eventually composed a song just for him and when he died he told me that I should keep writing music and singing because I was so good at it. He didn't even care about my face. That is what moved me the most and so I followed his advice and composed music regardless of my face.

"That's what you need to do. Dance regardless of what others have told you. You can do it and I believe you can."

Paris stared at Erik long after he had finished signing. Slowly she smiled and nodded. Erik smiled back but it faded a few seconds later and he looked nervously away. He cleared his throat a few times before he turned his eyes back to Paris'. She saw that his eyes were filled with apprehension and a silent plea.

"Paris, I…I want to show you my face."

Paris' eyes widened at his admission but she knew this meant a lot to him even though whatever his face looked like would not matter to her. She loved Erik for who he was, not what he looked like. So she nodded and waited for him to remove the mask. Erik raised shaking hands up to the ties that held his mask in place and then slowly untied them. Closing his eyes tightly he pulled the mask way from his face and held his breath. He was thankful Paris' couldn't talk for he didn't know if he would be able to take her scream of fright. However, when nothing happened he feared that she had fainted or that she had run away without him even knowing it and those thoughts hurt him even more than a scream. Suddenly a soft gentle hand was placed upon his scarred cheek and his eyes flew open.

Paris sat smiling softly up at him while she gently caressed his cheek. There was no fear in her eyes, just a warm emotion that Erik had no name for. He watched, amazed, as she raised her face up to his and gently kissed the scars. Erik closed his eyes and let the tears flow down his cheeks as he pulled Paris into his arms and held onto her tightly while he cried. Paris had accepted him and that meant more to him than words ever could if she had just said that she didn't care about his face. Her touch was a balm on his bruised and battered heart and soul and he knew she would always be able to take care of him like this.


	8. Chapter Eight

**

Chapter Eight

**

Christmas was a spectacle at Paris' flat that year. Erik had surprised her by purchasing a Christmas tree and setting it up in her living room one morning. He had had to sneak into both the Christmas tree lot to purchase the tree undetected by anyone and into Paris' flat without alerting the neighbors that he was in the building. He never came into the building through the front door and so Paris had had to explain that he did come through the door but only very late at night and very early in the morning when everyone was still asleep. He was eccentric like that she had told Madame Blanche when the lady had questioned Paris about Erik's odd behavior and why the poor woman had never seen this mysterious man.

So Paris and Erik decorated the Christmas tree with the ornaments that Paris had taken from her parents' house when she had run away as well as the ones that she had purchased here in Paris. Erik had even purchased a couple for her and had shyly handed them to her when she had been stringing popcorn strands around the tree. She had grinned happily and kissed Erik's scarred cheek and then had proceeded to find places for the new ornaments to hang.

After Erik had shown Paris his deformed face things between them had become much freer. Not to say that things had been distant before but Erik didn't feel so worried about what Paris would do when she saw his face. Because she had accepted him, face and all, he had felt a strange stirring in his heart. He didn't know what it was but he knew that if Paris ever left him he would not be able to cope. She had become his life line just as he suspected he had become hers. In fact ever since he had shown Paris his face she had forced him to keep his mask off between the times after Paris finished her dance exercises and when he left for the evening. He had tried to protest at first but Paris always sat next to him on the couch and would take his mask off of him and place the mask on her right side out of Erik's reach. She would then grab his right hand and hold it tightly while she read a book. Erik had tried a couple of times to get the mask back but every time he reached across her to get it she whacked his hand sharply with her book. Several attempts and many sore knuckles later Erik had finally learned his lesson and given up.

So now he just accepted the fact that Paris preferred to see his face without the mask and he had just followed her wishes. However, there were times when he heard footsteps out in the hallway and he would panic. He would quickly sign to Paris that someone was coming and she would give him his mask and he would hide in the shadows until the coast was clear. He still couldn't figure out how she knew when he was lying about there being someone out in the hall on the few times he tried to trick her into giving him his mask back. He could only guess that she felt the vibrations of their feet and whenever there wasn't someone she didn't feel the vibrations and could tell that he was lying.

Now they were stringing more popcorn onto thread in order to make more popcorn strings. Paris grinned as once again Erik ate the popcorn he was supposed to be stringing. He seemed to eat more popcorn than string it. Paris just shook her head and reached for some popcorn. Erik was like a kid. He had never had a real Christmas he had told her. His mother couldn't stand the sight of him and so had never celebrated it around him. After he had run away the years had just come and gone and he had never paid attention to the holidays. Now with Paris in his life he felt needed and cared about and he had decided that this year he would celebrate Christmas. Of course, Paris had silently laughed, Erik only remembered that it was Christmas time because Paris hadn't stopped signing about it. Paris went shopping every Saturday since that was the only time she could go without Erik around. Madame Blanche had stopped coming now that Paris was pretty much healed and Paris had sewn a baby blanket for the woman when Paris had learned that Madame Blanche was going to have another baby. Now Paris just had to make sure that Erik didn't accidentally find his presents. With the way he had been behaving she was surprised he wasn't begging her to tell him or sneaking around the flat trying to locate their hiding place.

After the last string of popcorn was finished, no thanks to Erik who had finally given up stringing to just eat the popcorn, Paris had Erik wrap the string around the top of the tree. They stood back and admired the Christmas tree for a moment before Erik signed that he had one more thing to add and rushed off for a minute. When he returned he had a box in his hands which he handed to Paris, his face full of nervousness and happiness. Glancing up at Erik for a moment Paris took the box and carefully opened it.

Inside was a beautiful Christmas Angel to place on top of the tree. It was dressed all in white and gold with silver wings painted and shimmering with glitter. The halo was made of gold wire. The angel's arms were open as if beckoning everyone to come towards her. Her face was hand painted with large grey blue eyes and shoulder length black hair. Her cheeks had a touch of pink and her lips were red and curving up into a small smile. Paris looked up at Erik in awe, tears of happiness filling her eyes.

"I had her made especially for you. I…I had her made to look like you. You have been my savior angel for quite some time now and I just thought this way you would always remain that way, an angel I mean," Erik explained nervously as he gave a lopsided grin.

Paris set the box down and rushed at Erik flinging her arms tightly around him in a hug. Her tears flowed freely down her cheeks now as Erik gathered her close against him. She heard him whisper "Merry Christmas, Paris," softly in her ear despite the fact that he knew she couldn't hear him. Paris wished more than ever that she didn't have to keep pretending that she was deaf and mute but she didn't think Erik would take too kindly to the fact that when he had confessed some rather heartfelt and even foolish things to her aloud believing she couldn't hear them she had in fact heard them.

When Paris had calmed down she disengaged herself from Erik and signed "Thank you, Erik" to him and then took the angel and had him place it carefully on top of the tree. They both stood back and smiled up at their finished tree, a feeling of comfort and warmth surrounding them.

Christmas day dawned bright and early for them. It had snowed the night before so the city was covered in a beautiful blanket of white. Paris had allowed Erik to stay the night for the first time since the accident. Erik had slept on the couch. Paris woke bright and early that morning and pulled on her robe before tiptoeing out into the living room. Erik slept peacefully on the couch beneath a thick quilt that Paris had made a couple of years ago. As Paris stared down at him she noticed that if one looked past the scars on the right side of his face he was really quite an attractive man. She knew he wasn't all that old, in his mid-thirties he had told her with a grin when Paris had asked one day. His hair was long and usually pulled back at the base of his neck with a black ribbon. She loved to run her hands through the long strands whenever she pulled the ribbon off. His hair was always so silky soft; she often wondered how he got it that way. This morning his hair was not pulled back and fanned around his head on the borrowed pillow. She also loved how his bangs were always falling into his eyes so she always had an excuse to push it out of them. She had never known a man with such thick lashes like Erik's. She knew if her own weren't as thick as they were she would probably envy Erik for his. She was also rather fond of his mouth. His lips weren't too thin nor were they too thick. His upper lip was slightly thinner than his lower lip which was full and 'kissable' as she liked to call it. Granted she had never actually kissed Erik on the mouth but every time she looked at his mouth she would imagine what it would be like.

Smiling softly Paris gently brushed Erik's bangs out of his face and looked at his unmasked face. His jaw was still strong and square even in sleep. She remembered that her father's jaw was strong when he was awake but when he went to sleep it rounded out as it relaxed. She had never liked that, it just showed that her father was a weak man inside and out. Paris gently traced a finger tip along Erik's jaw and she watched as it tightened beneath her touch. With a silent sigh Paris stepped back from Erik's sleeping form as he shifted in his sleep which caused the quilt to slip off of him down to his waist.

Paris stared at his body now revealed by the quilt. He had removed his jacket and vest to sleep and now he slept in only his black trousers, which were hidden by the quilt, and white dress shirt. His shoulders were impossibly wide and he had to scrunch up on the couch in order to fit. She knew he wasn't built like one of those muscle men that she had seen in fairs the few times she had been to them but she knew Erik was well endowed with them. After all the numerous hugs they had given each other she should know. His chest was broad and strong and she knew that his stomach was flat and hard. He worked out some how, she thought. She loved how long his legs were and she liked how she could wrap her arms around Erik completely due to the fact that his waist narrowed down into slim hips. However, it was his feet that attracted Paris so much. His ankles were slender for a man's and his feet long and angular with long toes that went down in a perfect slant.

Erik had teased her when she had made a comment about liking his feet. He had told her that he liked her feet too, blisters and all. Paris had hit him with a pillow for that comment and had signed agitatedly at him that she did not have blisters on her feet anymore. They had healed and her feet had hardened after so much dancing so now they were callused where she danced on them. Erik had then grabbed her feet and pulled her stockings off and examined her bare feet. He had then proceeded to tickle them which had sent Paris into a silent fit of laughing. When Erik had discovered that Paris still wouldn't make a sound even while being tickled he had given up and just massaged her feet. Paris had been in heaven after that and had returned the favor by massaging Erik's shoulders and neck.

Paris grinned when she saw one of Erik's feet sticking out from underneath the quilt and carefully began to play 'This Little Piggy' with them. Erik woke up when she reached the last toe and tickled up his body while mouthing, "And this little piggy went 'wee, wee, wee' all the way home." Erik, startled out of sleep by the tickling sensation that raced up his ribs, fell off the couch with a bark of laughter. He curled up into a ball as he tried to escape Paris' wiggling fingers.

"Merry Christmas, Erik!" Paris signed when she stopped tickling him.

"Merry Christmas, Paris," Erik answered with a smile as he slowly regained his breath.

After that Paris rushed over to the Christmas tree and began to dig through the presents. Erik folded the quilt and draped it over the back of the couch before he ran a hand through his hair and yawned. It was defiantly too early for him to be up. Getting up so early for the past five months had not been something he planned on doing for much longer. It was getting harder and harder to roll out of bed at six in the morning just to get over to Paris' flat by seven. However, looking over at Paris as she gleefully dug through the presents, Erik knew that he wouldn't have changed anything if he could do it all over again. Well, maybe he would do the chandelier bit over again but this time he wouldn't cut the cables. He still couldn't completely forgive himself for that.

Paris looked over at him just then and her smiling face brought him over help her investigate what "Santa Claus" had brought. His first Christmas and Paris was making it the most wonderful thing that he had ever had in a long time.

The presents were opened and Paris and Erik marveled at them. Erik had given Paris a beautiful emerald green gown that showed off her petite figure flatteringly. He had also given her new pair of toe shoes, black silk ones. Paris had had tears in her eyes when she saw them. She had also received a beautifully crafted music box that Erik said he had made for her. It played one of his own compositions that she had inspired. Erik had panicked when Paris had opened the music box for he had suddenly remembered that she was deaf and wouldn't be able to hear it. However, Paris had just smiled and told him that if he showed her the sheet music for the piece then she would be able to hear the notes in her mind. She still remembered what the notes sounded like even after being deaf for so many years. Erik had breathed better after that and had smiled at Paris with gratitude. The rest of the gifts Erik had given her were small but still treasured by the young dancer.

Paris had had a hard time finding gifts for Erik. She had made him a quilt of beautiful shades of blue, grey and black. In one corner she had made a mask similar to Erik's, a music staff with music notes on it and lastly a beautiful blue rose. Erik had just held the quilt in his hands as if it was the most fragile thing he had ever held. He had then wrapped Paris up in it and pulled her into his lap with a laugh when she wriggled around trying to playfully escape. She had also gotten him a beautiful new pocket watch with his name engraved on the front and a beautiful picture of the city of Paris in the face of the watch. Paris had teasingly told him that the city was almost as beautiful as her. To her surprise Erik had looked deep into her eyes and told her that nothing was as beautiful as her. Paris had blushed and quickly changed the subject by putting another gift in his lap. Erik had smiled knowingly but had said nothing.

The next gift he had opened had been a large stack of high quality music paper, a boxful of red ink and another boxful of quill pens. Erik had looked at it in shock before he had looked up at Paris and grinned as he thanked her. Like Paris' the rest of Erik's gifts were small but meaningful to him.

Once all the presents had been opened Paris went into the kitchen to make breakfast while Erik began to clean up the living room. They ate in a comfortable silence once breakfast was ready. They cleaned the dishes without making a mess though Erik had to grin when he remembered that day. It had been the first time he had had fun like that and after that day he had tried to have fun with Paris like that numerous times. Christine had never tried to join in, even when Paris had encouraged her to do so. Christine had always looked warily at Erik and shaken her head. Erik frowned as his thoughts strayed to Christine. He hadn't thought about her since the accident. He cast a glance at Paris. He had heard at the Opera House that Christine was returning. He wondered if Paris knew about that. Shaking his head to rid him of those thoughts he returned them back to the task at hand. When Christine returned he would deal with her then, not now. Right now he was going to convince Paris to play Christmas carols on her small piano for him. With that thought in mind he put the last dish away, scooped Paris up into his arms and plopped her down on the piano bench in the living room with a grin. She gave him a mock glare but turned around and for the rest of the morning she played Christmas carols for him.


	9. Chapter Nine

A/N: Only Paris belongs to me, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux or Sir Lloyd Webber. So here's chapter nine. Enjoy .

**

Chapter Nine

**

Paris entered the Opera House New Year's Eve. She was slightly nervous as she handed her invitation to the man at the door. She was dressed as Titania the fairy queen from William Shakespeare's '_A Midsummer Night's Dream_'. She had been invited to the annual Masquerade that the Opera House held and she was hoping that the managers would hire her again as a dancer. Now that she was completely healed she could dance again. She had also managed to regain her ability to dance _en pointe_ thanks to all the exercises she had worked on. Erik had been right, she had just needed to believe in herself as he had done and she could do anything.

She entered the ballroom where the Masquerade was being held and looked around. She breathed a small sigh of relief when Meg Giry, dressed as a jockey hurried over towards her with a grin on her face.

"Paris?" Meg asked.

Paris nodded thankful that she at least could lip read her own name so that when people asked her her name like that she could at least pretend she knew what they were saying even while pretending to be deaf.

Meg breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out a pad and pencil. "Mother is anxious to see you, as are Messieurs Andre and Firmin. I think they wish to speak with you about your returning to the Opera Company," Meg wrote.

Paris nodded when she read the note and followed Meg towards the small crowd that consisted of two men dressed as ghouls and Madame Giry. When they saw Paris they all nodded in greeting.

"Mademoiselle Aldress I take it you are much better now since we last saw you?" Monsieur Firmin wrote down on Meg's pad.

"Yes, Monsieur Firmin and I would like to speak with you about returning to the Company."

Firmin and Andre laughed when they read the bit about Paris wishing to "speak" with them but they calmed down enough to return to the matter at hand.

"My dear, we will have to see you dance before we can make a decision of this degree. After all you have not been dancing for nearly six months and the doctor told us that you may not even be able to dance again after that accident."

Paris read the note with barely concealed disappointment. She still had to show them that she could dance? With a silent sigh she asked when she could audition. She was told the Monday after the Masquerade. That gave Paris less than a week to prepare a dance routine but she wrote that that would fine. With that she curtsied to the small group and went off to enjoy herself. She hoped Erik showed up, he could blend in much easier than he would if this weren't a masquerade.

Turning Paris accidentally ran into someone. Glancing up, her eyes widened. It was the Vicomte de Chagny! He glanced down at Paris as he apologized for not watching where he was going and stopped in mid-sentence. His boyishly handsome face broke into a grin.

"Why Mademoiselle Aldress, I almost didn't recognize you! You look very pretty this evening. I take it you are doing much better after that, um accident with the chandelier?"

Paris frowned at him, her brow wrinkling in confusion. He must have forgotten that she was deaf and couldn't hear him, she thought. When Paris didn't answer him Raoul frowned for a moment before he remembered that she was deaf and mute. Smiling sheepishly he made a motion with his hands pantomiming writing. Paris quickly smiled and nodded as she pulled out her pad and pencil for him. He wrote his comment down and Paris nodded at him.

"Yes, I'm doing much better now. I'm actually going to re-audition on Monday for the managers. I have to show them that I can still dance before they let me rejoin the Company."

"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that they don't believe you. You were always one of the best dancers of the Company. I'm sure they'll hire you again. By the way, have you seen Christine?"

Paris shook her head at the question. Raoul sighed and glanced around for his fiancée. Suddenly he spotted her and grinned. Turning to Paris he motioned to her that he had spotted Christine and that she should follow him over to the singer. Paris bit her lip nervously as she nodded at the Vicomte who promptly grabbed her arm, laced it through his and led her over to the refreshment table where Christine was waiting.

"Christine, darling, look who I found."

Christine turned fearfully towards Raoul and relaxed noticeably when she saw Paris. With a cry of delight Christine rushed forward and enveloped her friend in a hug. Paris reluctantly returned it.

"Oh, Paris, I have been so worried about you! I felt so bad about leaving you when I knew you would need me the most! Can you ever forgive me?" Christine wrote.

"Of course Christine, you're my friend. I understood that you couldn't be with me. Besides, with all the pain I was in I don't think I would have been very good company for you if you had come to see me."

Christine laughed tearfully when she read Paris' note. They spent the next half hour catching up on things before Raoul took Christine onto the dance floor. Paris watched nervously. She hadn't seen any sign of Erik. Maybe if she was lucky he wouldn't come and see Christine here with Raoul. Paris didn't know what Erik would do if he found them there together. She and Erik hadn't said anything about Christine and Raoul since the night of the accident and Paris didn't know how Erik felt about Christine anymore. After all Christine had run off with Erik's rival without even saying good bye. She had broken Erik's heart and had thrown it back into his face without a backward glance. Then again, Paris didn't even know the full extent of Erik's affections towards her self. Sighing Paris turned away from the dance floor and grabbed a glass of champagne.

Just then the room when silent, the music stopped, the dancers froze and all conversations ceased. Paris turned fearfully around and saw the one sight that she had both hoped for and dreaded. Erik stood at the top of the stairs leading down into the ballroom dressed in a stunning costume of Edgar Allen Poe's _Mask of Red Death_. He stood gazing around the room from behind a skull mask. His gaze lingered on the two managers and he made his way slowly down the stairs towards them.

"Evening, Messieurs, I have brought you my new opera, _Don Juan Triumphant_. I believe it will be just the thing to perform for the new season. You will find all the casting and other necessary notes inside. Follow them to a T, gentlemen, and you shall have no problems with me," Erik growled. "After all, there are worse things that I could do than a falling chandelier."

Paris winced at that comment. He said it so casually as if nothing had happened that night besides only the chandelier falling. Paris watched fearfully as Erik's gaze swung around and settled immediately on Christine. Paris felt her heart sink as Erik strode over to the singer with determination in his long legged stride.

"Welcome back Miss Daaé, however, from this day forth you will sing only for me!" Erik command with a growl and reached out to grab the engagement ring that hung on a chain around Christine's neck off of her. With that Erik disappeared in a flash of smoke leaving Christine clinging to Raoul and tears of sorrow trailing down Paris' cheeks as she sank to the ground in despair. Erik still loved Christine.


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N: Alright, show of hands. Who was a little annoyed with the ending of the last chapter? This chapter, on the other hand, moves pretty quickly and may seem rather ridiculous. Anyway, you should know who belongs to me and who doesnt'.

**

Chapter Ten

**

Rehearsals for _Don Juan Triumphant_ began immediately. Paris didn't have to audition for the managers since Erik had cast her as the gypsy in his Opera. The managers were not going to go against the Phantom's wishes by not casting her until after she had auditioned. They couldn't bear to waste time that way. So they had sent word to Paris about her part in the Opera and had told her that she did not need to audition.

Paris rarely saw Erik now. He worked with Christine only, despite her fear of him. Paris cried herself to sleep when she learned that Erik had even seduced Christine to go to her late father's grave in Perros just so he could try to convince her to come back to him fully. Paris had breathed a sigh of relief when she over heard Christine talking to the Vicomte, thanking him for breaking Erik's hypnotic spell he had had over her that night in the graveyard. Erik had not succeeded. Paris wished Erik would just give up on trying to win Christine's love again. She already knew who and what Erik was so she was not going to fall in love with him. Christine was too afraid of Erik's face and dangerous temper. Erik had seen that before so why was he suddenly not seeing it now?

The days went by and Paris pushed herself past her limits once again as she tried to drown out her feelings for Erik in her dancing. Of course, it didn't help that she was dancing to Erik's own compositions and that she could in reality hear the music as she danced. Everywhere she went she was reminded of Erik and it was slowly killing her to know that he still would never love her the way he loved Christine; the way Paris loved him.

During the week of dress rehearsals Paris went up to Box 5 one day and just sat in one of the seats and cried silently. Everyone was in an uproar now that it was the final week before Opening night. The dancers were still having problems with the steps and even some of the musicians were messing up the music. Paris winced as she heard the violins and flutes clash as they screwed up the notes again. Everyone's nerves were shot and Paris feared that someone would quit in the days ahead. Christine was a walking bundle of nerves and Raoul was always following her and getting underfoot. Paris nearly bashed him over the head with one of the more heavy props when she had turned around after doing her dance and he had been right there behind her because Christine was supposed to be entering.

Paris raised her eyes and looked at the new chandelier. It was very beautiful and Paris hoped Erik never had a reason to send that one crashing to the floor. Closing her eyes Paris sighed when she heard Madame Giry yell at Raoul again and left Box 5 to return to rehearsal.

The night before Opening night, Paris was walking past the managers' office when she heard them talking. Paris would have kept walking and not have paid any attention to their conversation but something Firmin said caught her attention.

"Look de Chagny I'm not so sure this whole idea is going to work. How can we even be sure the Phantom will even be in Box 5 during the performance? He could be any where during the show and never show himself for the police to have a clear shot at him."

"Gentlemen, Mademoiselle Daaé assures me that he will be in attendance. She is, after all, his star and he wouldn't miss hearing her sing for the world. He will be there and we will kill him. My men will be all over this Opera House; there won't be anywhere the Phantom can hide, I assure you," Raoul's voice spoke up from behind the door.

Paris' eyes widened when she heard him. They were planning on killing Erik and they were using Christine as a lure! What hurt the most was that Christine was obviously a willing participant in this plan. Paris swallowed hard and hurried from the door when she heard footsteps heading towards it from inside indicating that the men were finished with there conversation. Paris prayed that Erik knew what was going on but he was so wrapped up in Christine that she didn't think Erik saw or heard anything past the singer now. Paris wished she knew the way down to Erik's home because right now she needed to warn him.

Paris watched from the shadows while Raoul shook hands with the managers before he turned and walked down the hallway and the managers returned to their office. Paris would not let them kill Erik if she had anything to say about it. With that she turned and hurried out of the Opera House to think of some way to warn Erik before the show.

Opening night was a dark and stormy night. Paris stood back stage in her costume. She was a bundle of nerves and she couldn't get herself to stop shaking. She glanced over at Christine who looked ready to pass out from fear. She kept peeking through the curtains and glancing up at Box 5.

'Serves you right for betraying Erik like this; I hope you choke on your lines,' Paris thought with a sneer. She had lost her faith in Christine after she had learned that Christine was helping with the murder of Erik. Especially after all he had done for the singer.

The auditorium went quite as the overture for the Opera began. Paris always felt a thrill run up her spine whenever she heard the haunting notes of the overture. However, now that chill was one of dread for the very man she loved was going to be killed tonight if something didn't happen to prevent it. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and she held her breath in hopes that it was Erik but her hopes sank when she saw it was one of the police officers that were wandering around the theater keeping an eye out for the Phantom.

The first act of the Opera went by without any sign of the Phantom but Paris knew he was there. She could sense him. She glanced once more over at Christine who was looking even worse, if that was possible. Paris heard the introduction to her big dance number being played and she prayed to God that Erik did not show himself during it. Across the stage she saw Meg wave her arm signaling to Paris that she was to go on. Paris took a deep breath and danced on stage. Every time she faced that direction she glanced up at Box 5 but every time she saw no sign of Erik and her heart beat a little more in relief each time.

When her dance was over it was time for the big scene between Christine's character of Aminta and Don Juan who was performed by Ubaldo Piangi, the lead tenor. Christine began to sing and shortly afterwards Piangi entered from upstage and began to sing. Paris breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Piangi's voice. She had been afraid that Erik would try something foolish like take Piangi's place as Don Juan and then kidnap Christine right off stage.

"There he is!" 'BANG!' a shot was fired after the shout and everything went chaotic. Paris felt her breath catch in her throat as she rushed on to the stage. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion for Paris when in reality was only a few minutes from start to finish. Audience members, cast, crew and policemen were running and shouting all over the place. Paris looked up to Box 5 and felt her heart twist. The police had Erik! He was twisting and turning trying to escape their grips but every time he got an arm or leg free there was another policeman to take the other's place.

"Hold him steady men, I've got him in my sights!" one of the policemen on the stage shouted up to the men in Box 5. Paris watched in horror as he shot. The bullet hit the bottom of the box just above Box 5. The man cursed and reloaded. Paris knew she had to do something quick or Erik would be dead in a few seconds. Glancing around she tried to think of something but all she saw were people running around in terror. Another shot was fired and one of the men up in the box cried out in pain. The shooter shouted a sorry. Another shot was fired and Paris froze when she heard the cry of pain come from Erik's throat.

"Got him! Okay now…whoa!" the policeman was cut off when Erik growled and began twisting again yanking his arm out of the policeman's grip.

Hearing Erik's voice forced Paris to realize that she had to bring her lie out into the open or she would loose Erik forever. She hurried to the center of the stage and took a deep breath before trying to clear her throat. God, it hurt! She hadn't been practicing her scales since the Masquerade. She tried again and got her vocal cords to produce a croaking sound. Glancing frantically around, she saw another policeman aiming at Erik again. She was running out of time! Closing her vocal cords together she produced a very high pitched sound. 'Yes!' If she could do that then she knew she could sing!

Paris stood up straight, raised her head, took a deep breath, closed her cords, raised her eyes to the struggling form of Erik and sang a high E.

The auditorium went deadly silent as everyone froze at the unearthly sound being produced from a tiny girl who was supposed to be deaf and mute. Paris didn't stop singing even after she had everyone's attention. Instead she sang using all the breath from her lungs and then she began pulling reserves from the rest of her body. She felt the strength leaving her toes, legs, torso, arms and fingers. She didn't know how long she held that one note out but she knew it was quite a while and even when she felt completely drained she kept going until she collapsed to her hands and knees. Her hair fell forward and hid her face from everyone.

"Please," she half sobbed half whispered, "let him go!" She raised her head and looked up at the policemen still holding Erik in their grips. It broke Paris' heart to see that even Erik was under the enchantment of her voice. As always happened, Paris' voiced command produced the wanted result. The policemen let go of Erik and that broke the spell on him. Erik shook his head to clear it, gazed down in shock at Paris before hurrying out of Box 5 through one of his hidden passageways.

Erik raced down to the stage despite the burning pain in his shoulder where that damn policeman had shot him. He had to get to Paris. God, how could he have been so stupid? He had seen the love shining in her eyes when she had pleaded for the policemen to release him. How did he miss that look before? Had she even looked at him that way before? Yes, he recalled, she had and numerous times at that. The most memorable was when he had shown her his face and she had smiled at him. He recalled she had looked at him with a feeling that had made Erik feel cared for. He hadn't been able to name that look but now he could: love. God, Paris loved him and he, the idiot that he was, had not even paid attention to it! If only she had told him maybe none of this would have happened. Tears filled Erik's eyes as he prayed to God that he wasn't too late to reach Paris.

He reached the hidden door that led to the stage but he froze when he saw that the policemen had Paris. He darted back into the passageway and pressed his ear up against the entrance to hear what they were saying to her.

"You are under arrest for helping with the escape of a dangerous murderer and kidnapper."

Erik watched in horror as he saw Paris bow her head and nod as she allowed the policeman to tie her hands behind her back. No, he couldn't allow them to take Paris away! "Speak, damn it, speak Paris! Why don't you say something? I know you can," Erik growled softly as panic began to set in. When Paris still said nothing Erik pulled out his Punjab lasso flung the hidden door open and flung the lasso out around Paris.

"Erik!" she gasped as he began pulling her towards him.

"Hey, stop, quick grab them!" the policeman shouted but it was too late. Erik had Paris in the passageway with him and he slammed it shut. Pulling his knife out from his boot he cut the rope that bound Paris' wrists then put his lasso and knife away.

"Come on, we got to get away from here!" Erik growled as he grabbed Paris' arm and began running with her down the passageway just as shots were fired from the other side of the door. Paris gave a startle cry and gripped Erik's hand tighter as they ran. "I won't let anything happen to you, Paris, I promise."

After running for what seemed like forever Erik reached the underground lake and the boat. He helped Paris into it and then he painfully poled them across to his home. Paris looked at Erik with worry evident on her face. She knew he had been shot and that he had to be in pain. She suddenly heard the faint sounds of shouting and knew that the police had some how found a way into the underground labyrinth that made up Erik's domain.

When they reached the opposite shore Erik climbed out and helped Paris out before leading her towards his house. Neither said a word until they were safely hidden by the hidden door in the stone. Erik had made sure to cover their tracks before entering and then he led Paris into his house. Once in the house Erik collapsed onto the couch with a moan.

"So we finally meet Monsieur _le fantôme_," a voice growled. Erik's eyes snapped open and he came face to face with Raoul le Vicomte de Chagny who was aiming a gun directly at him.

"Raoul, don't!" Christine cried grabbing the Vicomte's arm.

"Yes, de Chagny, don't. Why are you here any way?" Erik demanded as he painfully tried to sit up straight despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder.

"You are supposed to be dead! When those incompetent men known as the police and the best shots in Paris didn't do their job I knew you would come here! I planned on being here to dispose of you myself. Then I would know that you were dead!" Raoul shouted angrily as he shook Christine off of his arm and once again aimed the gun at Erik.

"Raoul put the gun down, please! Let's just go! Why did you have to come down here? Now he'll never let me go!" Christine sobbed as she clasped her hands together.

"Shut up Christine! We'll go as soon as I dispose of this monster!"

"Listen to her de Chagny. You were foolish in coming down here," Erik growled and before anyone knew what he was doing Erik had his Punjab lasso out and around Raoul's neck. With a sharp jerk the lasso tightened enough to cause the Vicomte to choke but he held tightly onto the gun.

"You…bastard! I…I won't let…you have…her!" Raoul choked out as Erik tightened the rope around his neck. Christine cried out in fear and looked back and forth between the two men trying to decide who she should go to first.

"Please stop, everyone," a soft heavenly voice spoke up. Everyone froze and looked towards the speaker.

Paris stood off to one side of the room, her large grey blue eyes filled with tears. Christine gaped at Paris in shock that the girl could actually speak. Erik stopped tightening his grip on the rope and Raoul just froze in place.

"Paris, you…you can talk!" Christine gasped.

Paris turned her eyes to the singer and nodded. "I have always been able to hear and speak. But that's not the point, please just stop. Erik let Raoul go, please," Paris pleaded with the man she loved.

Erik narrowed his eyes at Paris, "I will not! He threatened me first and I will not allow him to take Christine away from me!"

Paris' eyes widened in shock. Erik had not followed her order! But then she saw the burning anger in his eyes and realized that he was so deep in his anger that he wasn't completely himself. He didn't hear her voice the way everyone else did when he was like this. Tears fell down her cheeks as she realized this.

"It's always about Christine! I love you, Erik but you never even look at me whenever your precious Christine is in the room! God, I wish I'd never met you, any of you!" Paris screamed and turned and stumbled out the door running where ever her feet would take her.

Erik was knocked out of his rage by Paris' scream. He dropped the rope and spun around to where Paris had been standing. "No, wait, come back! Paris, please, I'm sorry I didn't mean it!"

Erik ran out the door but stopped when he heard the shouts of the mob coming closer. Quickly he ran back inside and rushed over to Christine and Raoul.

"You have to go, the police are coming! Go take the boat and just go!"

"You…you're letting me go?" Christine gasped as Raoul got to his feet.

"Damn it Christine, Paris is right, it is always about you isn't it? Even you think only of yourself! Yes, I'm letting you go!" Erik snapped angrily.

"Come on Christine let's get out of here before he changes his mind," Raoul grabbed Christine's hand and the two lovers hurried away.

Erik watched them leave but he didn't have time to go after Paris. The mob was practically right on top of him. He spun around and dashed back into his home and just as the mob crashed through the door he had hidden himself in the secret compartment inside his throne like chair. He only prayed that Paris had managed to get away from them if she had encountered them. If she hadn't he would reveal himself, for if she was to go to jail then so would he.


	11. Chapter Eleven

A/N: Okay, the scene in the last chapter where Paris holds out the note, well, I took the idea from Jude Deveraux's book _Laural Mountain_, or at least I think that's the name of the book. Anyway, I just wanted to say that it's been used in a well known author's book so I'm not crazy when I wrote that scene. I hope everyone is happy with the way Paris has spoke now. So, enjoy this chapter and remember I only own Paris not the rest.

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Chapter Eleven

**

Paris ran blindly through the dark passageways. She didn't care where she was going anymore just as long as it was far away from Erik. She hoped to find the exit out of the underground labyrinth but nearly an hour of wandering passed and she knew she was lost and so gave up trying to escape. If she died then she died and she hoped Erik was happy with his life now that she would no longer be in it.

Paris continued to wander around now but she had slowed down to a walk. She didn't know how long she had been wandering now but she knew it was quite a while and she was getting thirsty and tired. Finally she sank to the ground in an exhausted heap. She was so tired she couldn't stay on her feet anymore. God, how she wished she hadn't been so rash while running out of Erik's home. She didn't want to die, she wanted to live. Had she run away from an abusive life just to die of a broken heart down in the catacombs of the Paris Opera House?

Curling up into a ball Paris began to cry. After so many years of crying silently she was still in the habit of doing so and so her sobs were silent but filled with pain. As she cried she slowly fell into an exhausted sleep where her dreams were filled with Erik.

Meanwhile, Erik after having spent nearly three hours scrunched up inside his throne while the mob tore his place apart in a mad search for him, finally climbed out of his hiding place when he heard the last of the crowd leave his home. He had heard them shouting for both him and Paris so he knew that Paris had not been caught by them. Stretching the stiffness out of his muscles and neck Erik winced when he pulled the muscles in the shoulder that he had been shot in. He looked down at it and grimaced. He could still feel the bullet inside and he knew he needed to get it out quickly. Sighing, he glanced around at the destruction. He was a bit surprised at how little they had actually done. Granted a lot of his knick knacks had been broken but his furniture was still intact, just shoved around a bit. His Persian wall hangings had been ripped down and his throw pillows had been ripped apart. He had heard the managers tell everyone not to ruin the furniture because they were going to take it and use it for further productions. Erik had growled silently at that. He looked into the kitchen and saw that all his dishes had been smashed and his pots, pans, and silverware had been scattered about.

He sighed as he made his way into the music room. His books had been tossed about and the bookshelves had been pulled down away from the wall. Probably looking for hidden doors, Erik thought with a sneer. He was pleased to see that his musical instruments had also been spared any rough treatment. They were probably also going to be taken up and used in the next productions. The bedrooms were next. Erik saw that they had all been ransacked. Bedding was everywhere as were clothes and the items that had been on the vanities in Christine's and Paris' rooms had been thrown all over the floor. Erik's room had been destroyed the most. His bed had been hacked up, the bedding had been shredded, his clothes had been tossed all over the place and his masks had been broken, cut and some were even burned. Erik felt his heart twist when he remembered his Christmas presents.

Rushing over to the wardrobe he shoved the broken door to the side and nearly wept with relief. They hadn't found the hidden compartment in the roof of the wardrobe. Opening it he pulled out the box that he had put all of the Christmas presents Paris had given him into. Sinking down into a ball Erik pulled out the quilt and began to sob as he wrapped it around himself. Christine was gone but he could get over her. It was Paris that ripped the painful sobs from his throat. He didn't know why it had taken him so long to realize why he could be himself around Paris. He loved her plain and simple. She was always there for him and now, he thought with a sob, she was gone and didn't want to have anything to do with him. Oh God, she could speak and hear! This whole time she had been lying to everyone and they all had been fooled by her! He included. He had told her his most heartfelt secrets believing she couldn't hear him and all that time she could and had never given any indication that she had.

Erik knew he should be angry with her for deceiving him like that but he realized that she had loved him despite what she had heard from him. He had to laugh when he thought about it. He was pretty sure many people had told Paris some pretty big secrets believing Paris couldn't hear them and therefore wouldn't tell them. He had a feeling that once those people realized what Paris had done they would feel pretty stupid for telling her their secrets. His small smile faded quickly when another thought came to him. If some of those secrets were very important those people might hunt down Paris and silence her for good!

Oh God, Erik couldn't let that happen! He had to find Paris and warn her even if she didn't want to see him ever again. Quickly rising to his feet Erik started for the door but froze when pain sliced down his arm from his shoulder. Grabbing the wound Erik knew he wouldn't be of any use to Paris if he collapsed in the streets due to an infection from the shot. He managed to find his medical equipment still intact and so he went into the living room and set to work getting the bullet out of his shoulder.

It was well into the next day when Erik awoke from the sleeping draught he had given himself to dull the pain in his shoulder after he had successfully removed the bullet. He was thankful that he hadn't needed to give himself stitches. He was always a bit weak in the stomach when it came to stitching someone up. Sitting up carefully Erik got up off the couch and made his way into the kitchen bumping his shins painfully a couple of times on moved furniture. He got himself a glass of water and looked to see what was left in his pantry that was still edible. There wasn't much but he found some crackers and a hunk of cheese in the icebox so he made a quick meal of that.

Wincing he stood back up and went back into the living room to check the time. It was already almost four in the afternoon. Erik's eyes widened at that. Paris still needed to be warned about the people that had told her their secrets. Erik rushed to grab a cloak that wasn't too damaged and then he found one of his fedoras. Once dressed Erik took a deep breath and hurried out of his home. He hoped to God that Paris was still in her flat when he got there. He just prayed that the police hadn't gone there and arrested her. Tipping his fedora low over his mask Erik took a deep breath and then stepped out into the streets of Paris, his long strides taking him in the direction of Paris' home.

He managed to sneak inside her flat without any problems. Looking around he didn't know whether to be relieved or worried when he saw that Paris had obviously not returned home the night before. Yesterday's paper was still open on the kitchen table and none of the dishes had been done. The front door was still locked so he could only assume that no one had been by, police or otherwise. So if Paris wasn't here and never had been then where was she? Was she still at the Opera House or had she just run away from Paris completely? God, he hoped she was still in the city. After one last look around, Erik left the flat and hurried back to his underground home. By the time he reached his house, he was exhausted and his shoulder had begun to throb painfully. He knew he had to tend to the wound before he even attempted searching the Opera House.

Erik changed the dressing on the wound and applied a new bandage. Glancing at the clock he knew he was too tired to search the passageways. He just prayed that Paris hadn't gotten hurt or too lost in the catacombs if she was still in them. He was just thankful that now that he knew she could actually hear and speak she would be able to hear him if he called out to her and she would be able to answer. With that thought in mind Erik settled himself down on the couch and let the sleeping draught he had made take effect.

Erik woke a short while later. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was three in the morning. Rising gingerly he knew he had to find Paris. He glanced down at his attire and frowned. He needed to clean shirt and a change of pants. Making his way into his ransacked bedroom he managed to dig up a clean shirt and a pair of pants that hadn't been destroyed by the murderous mob. After he had changed and was reasonably presentable to his liking he went into the kitchen and ate some more cheese and crackers. Then he packed the rest into a bag, filled a flask full of water, grabbed his cloak and a lantern and hurried out into the dark passageways. He made sure his house was hidden behind the camouflaged rocks. He knew that it hadn't been before and that was how the mob had gotten in.

Erik knew he had to hurry. There were hundreds of passageways and even though he knew them all like the back of his hand he knew Paris didn't and could have wandered down one after another. She would have gotten so turned around she wouldn't know which way was up anymore. And Erik knew he had to search every one of them. He only hoped that Paris had realized that she was lost and had stopped running a soon as she realized that. It would make finding her easier if she wasn't too far into the catacombs. However, with as angry at him as she had been he had a sinking feeling that she had not done just that.

Erik searched for over four hours with no results. He hadn't gotten through all of the passageways yet but he was beginning to think that maybe Paris had found her way out of them after all. She was a smart girl and Erik wouldn't put it past her to have waited until after the mob left and followed them back up. With a tired sigh Erik gently massaged his shoulder which was beginning to throb again and turned down another passageway.

"Paris can you hear me? Are you down here?" Erik called for what felt like the millionth time. He paused and listened with his keen hearing, his cat-like eyes searched the dark halls for anything out of place. He sighed dejectedly when he heard and saw nothing again. Pressing forward he resumed the search.

Once again this was all his fault, he thought as tears pricked his eyes. If only he hadn't gone after Christine again when she had returned he could be sharing a pleasant evening alone with Paris. 'Hindsight is 20/20' Nadir's voice echoed in his head. It was always one of that damn Persian's favorite sayings. Erik growled deep in his throat as he thought about the Persian. Where was he when Erik really needed him? Nadir would be able to help Erik find Paris; he was so good at tracking down people. A sound down the passageway brought Erik up short. He listened but sighed when he realized that it was only a rat. He hoped the mob hadn't found Paris first. The last thing he wanted was to have to help her escape from jail.

Another hour passed and Erik's shoulder was now a burning pain. He clenched his teeth together as he paused and placed a hand upon it. He needed to tend to it soon or infection might set in. Sweat trickled down his temple as he waited for the pain to subside just a bit. He was about to turn down another passageway when a soft sound drifted to his ears. He froze and listened again. There it was again: a soft sniffle and a tiny moan. Paris?

"Paris?" Erik called out softly and began to slowly make his way towards the sound. He didn't want to alarm the person if it wasn't Paris but he needed to know who it was.

"E…rik?" a soft moan called out.

That was all the confirmation Erik needed to know that it was indeed Paris. He ran forward, lighting the lantern as he did so. She lay curled up in a ball by the side of the passageway, weak from hunger and thirst. Erik knelt down and gathered her up into his arms as he wept with relief. Paris clung weakly to him as she, too, cried.

"I thought I would never find you," Erik sobbed against her hair as he gently rocked her in his arms.

"I'm sorry, so sorry Erik! I didn't mean what I said before! I was angry and upset but please don't leave me here alone anymore!" Paris choked out, her throat raw from crying so much.

"I promise, God Paris, I'll never leave you again!" Erik gasped softly and held Paris tighter.

When they had calmed down, Erik settled Paris more comfortably in his lap and pulled out the sack of food and water. He pulled out some food and gave the flask of water to Paris to drink. She gulped the water down and would have drank it all if Erik hadn't warned her that she would make herself sick if she drank it too fast or drank too much. He then handed her some cheese and she ate it slowly. They sat in silence for a short while before Erik decided that they needed to get out of the passageways.

He gathered everything up and then stood up. Reaching down, he helped Paris to her feet. She was still weak but with Erik there to help her she knew she would be able to make it. Erik carried the sack and lantern in his left hand, the side with the wound and wrapped his right arm around Paris to support her.

They walked slowly in silence. Every now and then Erik would pause to listen and let Paris rest before urging her on. Now that Erik wasn't searching for Paris he was able to keep an eye on the passageways to make sure they didn't get lost. He could see where short cuts could be made since he didn't have to search every passageway. They made it back to the lake and Erik's home in about an hour.

Once safely inside the house Erik and Paris collapsed in exhaustion onto the couch. They rested for a few minutes before Erik roused himself enough to get up and tend to his wounded shoulder. Paris watched him with a worried frown.

"Will that be okay?" she asked softly.

Erik glanced up at her and smiled. "Yeah, I got the bullet out. I'm out of danger; I just have to keep an eye on it. Hurts like hell though," he winced as he applied more salve on the wound.

"I suppose you would know what hell is like, huh?" Paris asked her throat thick with unshed tears.

"Yes," came Erik's soft reply. Paris looked up into his eyes and knew that searching for her had been hell for him. He looked exhausted and pained. "But don't blame yourself Paris. I was too stupid not to see what was right in front of me so I brought this upon myself."

"I should have said something sooner. At least then you would have known how I felt and then you would have been able to go from there with a little bit more knowledge. I kept hoping you wouldn't show up at the performance that night! When I wasn't able to tell you what was in store for you if you showed up I just hoped that you already knew about the plan and so wouldn't show up. Why did you, though?" Paris looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Erik was silent for a moment and Paris feared he had been enchanted by her voice again but when she raised her eyes she met his and he sighed. "I don't know if knowing you loved me would have made much of a difference at the time but I came because I wanted to see Christine. I had been hiding in the passageway in Box 5 and when Christine began to sing I just had to get a better view of her. So I stepped out into Box 5. I knew there were policemen everywhere but I was so entranced by Christine singing my Opera, singing the one song that put all my feelings for her into music, I just forgot the men were there. Hence I was caught off guard. Now I wish I had just stayed behind that wall, then maybe none of this would have happened," Erik sighed as he waved his hand at the destruction of his home. "Maybe I would have realized my feelings for Christine were not as genuine as I thought and that my feelings for you were."

Paris stared in shock at what he had just said. Was he admitting something to her?

"What are you saying?" she breathed, she didn't dare hope that what he was saying was what she had dreamed he would say to her.

"I love you, Paris. I don't know why I never realized it before. I could always be myself around you. I never had to tiptoe around you like I did with Christine. You always made me laugh and made me feel cared for. You didn't run away or scream when I showed you my face, you accepted me for who I was. I always knew Christine would never be like that and yet I still went after her. I kept using you as someone to take my pain away and then I tossed you aside when Christine was back with me to dish out more pain. And you never complained vocally or otherwise. You always opened your arms and gave me a comforting smile as if you were happy with your role in my life and yet deep down you weren't. And deep down I knew that but I refused to acknowledge it and therefore I caused you more pain than I ever felt with Christine. I don't want to cause you anymore pain Paris, I just can't live with myself if I do!" Erik was sobbing by the time he finished his explanation. Paris gathered him close into her arms and held him tightly against her.

"You love me, Erik. You can't hurt me if you love me now. Oh Erik, I just wish I hadn't lied about not being able to hear and speak! You told me things that you never really wanted me to hear and I did! I caused so much unnecessary pain because I didn't say things that could have prevented other things!" Paris cried.

Erik shook his head. "No, you made it easier to love you, Paris. Because you pretended you couldn't speak or hear I was able to say things that I wouldn't have been able to if you could hear. You taught me sign language and that allowed me to say things that were painful for me. You were able to fool so many people that they trusted you with things that they never would have trusted with someone else. You are a stronger person because of what you have done. Not many people would be able to pull off being deaf and mute to the extent you have. Even when loud noises sounded causing everyone else to jump and scream you just stood there as if nothing was going on. Although now I know why you could dance so beautifully; you could actually hear the music," Erik was chuckling by now. Paris made a watery sound that sounded like a laugh.

"That was the hardest part about pretending to be deaf. I could hear the music and so at times would actually get swept up into it to the point where I would close my eyes and just dance. I think some of the girls thought I could actually hear because I would move to the tempo flawlessly. I don't think any real deaf person would have been able to do that without feeling the beats. I also had to remind myself not to stop whenever the music would stop unexpectedly. I had to wait until I saw something that would show me that I had to stop," Paris explained, her voice laced with humor.

Erik laughed and held Paris tighter. He raised his head to look into her eyes, his expression serious now. "Why did you pretend?"

"I had to," Paris softly answered. "My voice has been a curse since the day I was born. Ever since I could talk my voice has had some strange enchantment over people. I was in school one year and I was playing with some dolls in the school yard when I saw this giant rat. I began yelling at it to die as I attacked it with a stick. I didn't know it at the time but while I was screaming two other girls heard me and began stabbing themselves with sticks. They died before the doctor could get to them but it was my voice that caused their deaths. Over the next few years several other deaths or near death occurrences happened whenever I said something about death. Orders were obeyed instantly whenever I asked for something. Everyone thought I was possessed by the Devil and that I was possessing people with my voice.

"I was beaten severely every time I said something that caused something to happen. I was beaten so badly once that I got sick and when I got well I just pretended that the illness had made me deaf and mute. My parents were very happy about that. I ran away when I was sixteen and joined the Opera House. The rest you pretty much know." Paris explained in a voice barely above a whisper. "My back is covered in scars from the beatings."

Erik just sat and listened to Paris' story and when she finished he growled deep in his throat before pulling her against him once again. "I'll kill them! They shouldn't be left to live after all the pain you've been through because of them. You can't help it that you have a beautiful voice," Erik seethed.

"It may be beautiful but it's a curse as well. You have even been under its power!" Paris protested as she pulled away from Erik to look up at him.

"Only that once and that was because I had never heard it before. I had never heard a voice that heavenly. God gave you that voice, Paris, not the Devil. I've been told God works in mysterious ways and this is one of them. The same goes for my face. Because of it I've been called a child of Satan. I'd now like to think that because God works in such mysterious ways that he made it possible for us to be together. Christine wasn't meant to love me, you were. You weren't meant to speak with your voice for so long because you were meant to speak with your hands and heart to show me love instead of saying it. If you notice I haven't exactly been under your voice's enchantment for quite some time now. Or at least not in the same way as has happened before. Maybe that's another reason for us falling in love, I'm not under the spell so you won't have to worry about saying something that would have dire results," Erik rationalized with a soft smile.

"I won't have any control over you with my voice?" Paris asked her voice tinged with a touch of panic. Erik frowned.

"Why would you want to? You were just complaining that you feared I would be under the spell."

"Well if you're not under my voice's enchantment how can I order you to kiss me and expect to get the desired affect?"

Erik opened his mouth to respond but froze when her words actually sank in. He shot a startled glance down at her and held his breath when he saw her grinning up at him. He realized she wasn't exactly joking.

"You want me to kiss you?" he breathed.

"I love you Erik, I believe people in love kiss," Paris frowned at his delaying.

Erik looked deeply into Paris' eyes once more before he slowly lowered his head down to hers. He paused centimeters from her lips giving her a chance to back away but she raised her head to his instead. His eyes fluttered shut as soon as his lips met hers. He tried to keep the kiss light but Paris seemed to have other ideas. She raised her arms to encircle his neck and pressed her lips more firmly against his. Erik moaned and deepened the kiss as he pulled Paris into his lap and angled his head over hers. He gently traced her lips with his tongue and she softly parted them to allow him to enter. His tongue tangled with hers and her soft moan aroused him to the point of near distraction. He had to stop before he took this farther than he should.

He managed to pull away and just held Paris against him while they breathed deeply to regain their breath.

"Do you think it will always be like that when we kiss?" Paris gasped, her forehead resting against Erik's uninjured shoulder.

"God I hope so," Erik laughed shakily as he kissed her temple. "It'll be a rather dull marriage if that's all the excitement we'll ever see from now on."

Paris froze and slowly raised her head to look at him. "Marriage? You…you want me to marry you?" her voice came out as a squeak.

"If you'll have me," Erik answered softly.

Tears filled Paris' eyes as she wrapped her arms around Erik again. "Yes," she sobbed. "Yes, I'll marry you! I promise I'll make a good wife for you! Oh Erik, I love you so much!"

"And I love you, Paris. I'll take good care of you, I promise," Erik felt tears trickle down his face as he held the woman he loved tightly against him. He then pulled her into another kiss, this one just as magical as the first one.


	12. Chapter Twelve

A/N: Well, as you can see the story is not over. There's still quite a ways to go before we're through. Anyway, once again I only own Paris, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux or Sir Lloyd Webber. 

**

Chapter Twelve

**

For the next few weeks Erik and Paris worked on getting all of Erik's possessions packed up. Erik had decided that it would not be a good idea to stay down beneath the Opera House. Not now that the managers were getting men together to come down to get the furniture that they were planning on using in future productions. Erik had gotten in touch with Nadir shortly after Paris had accepted his proposal for marriage. He had asked Nadir to look for a house for him and Paris somewhere reasonably outside of Paris. Nadir had come through for Erik once again and had found a nice house out in the country. There was a small town nearby named Caine Village so they wouldn't have to travel too far to get necessary items such as food and clothes. Erik and Paris had traveled out to see the house for themselves before they decided on actually purchasing. It was set in the woods but not so far that they would have to walk miles just to get to the road.

Paris had fallen in love with the house as soon as she saw it. It was small but large enough for them to live comfortably without feeling confined. The front entryway was spacious with a large library or study off to the left and a large parlor off to the right. A wide flight of stairs were in the entry and there was a long hall off to the left of the stairs on the first floor. Another big room was down the hall way and Erik would use it for a music room. The hall way turned right leading under the stairs where it led to the kitchen. The dining room was between the kitchen and the parlor. Upstairs there was the Master bedroom and several guest bedrooms. Paris had grinned when she saw a small one off in a corner and had glanced teasingly over at Erik who had frowned in confusion. There was even a rather large attic which had pleased them. That meant plenty of storage space. A basement was down below and Erik was surprised to discover a hidden passageway down there. He had grinned at Paris when he had shown it to her and had whispered all the reasons they could use it. Paris had blushed bright red and laughed before shoving Erik into the passageway and locking the door on him. Needless to say Erik had not exactly been pleased with Paris when he got back into the house. He had retaliated by stealing her necklace, one he had given her, without her even knowing it and then demanding to know where she had left it. Paris had panicked and had tried to find it for nearly half an hour. By the time Erik took pity on her with a laugh she was nearly hysterical and in tears. She had refused to speak to him the entire ride back to the Opera House.

They had bought the house and every night since the purchase Erik and Nadir would sneak furniture out from the underground house up to a cart and then would drive all night to the house to leave the stuff there. Paris always worried that they would get caught since the police were still on the look out for both her and Erik. Erik had already taken Paris back to her flat so that she could pack whatever items she wished to keep. She then paid for that month's rent and left a note to the landlord that she would not be returning and that he could do whatever he wished with anything she left in the flat.

Finally the big day came. All of Erik's furniture had been safely taken to their new home. Erik looked around the now empty house that had been his home for so many years. Paris came up behind him and slipped her hand into his to give him comfort. He glanced down at her and smiled softly.

"Anywhere you are, I'm home," he said softly as he pulled her to him for a kiss.

"And you are my home as well," Paris answered with a smile. "Do you think we should leave a note to the managers? After all, they are still looking for us and they were planning on stealing your things."

Erik laughed and agreed. So they left a note for the managers.

"_Dear Messieurs,  
I regret to inform you that Mademoiselle Aldress and I have left the Opera House for good. We shall be married so wish us luck in that regard. I also wish to inform you as you will soon discover, my furniture has been taken with me to my final destination. Where that is I do not know but rest assured that you will both never be forgotten. You have provided me with endless entertainment in the years I have known you gentlemen and I am sorry to leave you with out being able to give you a final good bye in person. So, I shall fade into the wood work with my darling Paris by my side and every time you hear a creak or something goes wrong just remember me for my spirit will remain here in the Paris Opera House to continue wrecking havoc with your minds. And so, it is with a heavy hand and a light heart that I bid you gentlemen, adieu,  


Your obedient friend,  
O.G."

_

Erik glanced over at Paris after he finished with the letter. She looked up at him and grinned. So he placed the letter in an envelope and grabbing Paris' hand headed up through the passageways to the managers' office. Glancing through the peepholes he saw that they were not inside. Carefully opening the hidden panel Erik stepped into the room and placed the letter onto the managers' desk. Then he hurried back through the panel and rejoined Paris just in time. The managers' door opened and Andre and Firmin entered. They froze when they saw the note and their white faces looked at each other before they both rushed forward to grab the note. After fumbling with it for a moment Firmin took hold of it and opened it with a shaking hand. Their cries of outrage and horror filled the room while Erik's haunting maniacal laughter filled the Opera House. The Phantom had gotten the final draw in the end.

Erik helped Paris step into the waiting carriage by the Seine river entrance and with a final bow towards the Opera House Erik climbed into the carriage beside Paris and told the driver where to go. They were free. Erik smiled down at Paris as she rested her head upon his shoulder with a contented sigh. They were going to be married in the church in the town near their new home. Erik and Paris had already met the Priest, a Father Michaels. He had been very kind and had not questioned Erik about his mask. Instead he had calmly asked for their names, birth dates and other necessary items. He then had asked for a date and time for the ceremony and the guest list. Erik had laughed and said that the list would be small, very small. But Father Michaels had wanted it anyway. He would need witnesses after all.

So Erik had asked Nadir to be his witness much to the surprise of the Persian. However, Nadir had smiled and agreed. So he and his man, Darius, would attend the wedding. What Erik didn't know was that Paris had gotten in touch with Christine and had apologized to her for what she had said that night. Christine had accepted her apology and had insisted that Paris come over for tea. So during one of the days Erik had been at the new house with the furniture Paris had gone over to the de Chagnys' flat to visit with Christine. Christine was living with Raoul but they were planning on getting married soon. Paris had apologized to Christine again once she was in the house and had explained everything. Christine had been surprised and hurt that Paris had lied to her for so long but when she heard the reasons Christine had forgiven Paris immediately.

"There's another reason why you're here isn't there?" Christine had asked.

"Yes, Erik has asked me to marry him and I've said yes and I want you to come to my wedding."

"But what about Raoul and Erik? Raoul won't let me go if he knows Erik will be there even if Erik is in love with you now. And Erik might suddenly retaliate. He might not want me there after all the pain I've caused him."

"You're one of my closest friends Christine, please? It would mean so much to me. You've been like a sister to me."

Christine had bitten her lip nervously but had finally agreed. Paris told Christine that a carriage would take her to the wedding so she needed to be ready to go. Raoul could come too if he wanted to; he would not be turned away.

Paris had sent a letter to Christine telling the singer the date and time of the wedding. Christine had written back saying that she and Raoul would be there. Now Paris looked at her fiancé and smiled happily. However, she knew she needed to tell Erik that Christine and Raoul would be at the wedding for Erik would not be pleased if they just showed up with out warning.

"Erik, there's something I need to tell you."

"You're not regretting agreeing to marry me are you?" Erik teased.

"No, but it does pertain to the wedding," Paris answered nervously wringing her hands.

"What is it?" Erik asked turning to look at her fully.

"I…I um, I invited Christine to the wedding and she's coming with Raoul," Paris flinched as if waiting to be hit or yelled at.

Erik was silent for a long time before he sighed and looked out the window. When he finally spoke it was in a voice filled with ice. "I guess I should have seen that coming. After all she was your only real friend for so long at the Opera House. I suppose I should have known that since you forgave me you would forgive her and would want her to come to your wedding."

"I didn't want to hurt you; I just wanted her to be at my wedding. She's been like a sister to me. Please don't be mad, Erik. Or is there another reason for this lack of emotion? Are you afraid you'll see Christine and want her back like you did before?" Paris' voice was filled with heat as she sneered her demand.

Erik's head snapped back to face her. He narrowed his eyes angrily. "I can not believe you just asked me that! I love you, Paris but if you think I'm afraid I'll suddenly fall all over myself just to get Christine back then maybe you don't love me as much as you claim you do," Erik snarled.

"I don't understand! You claim your love for Christine was false yet you don't want me to invite her to the wedding. You're making it sound as if you do still have romantic feelings for Christine. If you were really over her then you wouldn't be so worried about her coming! And don't you ever accuse me of not loving you as much as I've claimed!" Paris hissed, her grey blue eyes flashing angrily.

"I am over Christine! I'm marrying you aren't I?" The minute the words left Erik's mouth he knew he had messed up. Paris' eyes widened in shock before they filled with pain and tears.

"So, you're just marrying me to prove you're over Christine." It wasn't a question. "I was the only one who accepted you for who you were and you decided, 'hell why not, she cares for me the way I am and this will show Christine that I'm worthy of someone's affections' and fool that I was I walked right into the stupid trap."

"No, Paris that's not what I meant! I do love you! God, don't say that I don't! You know what my life has been like; the last thing I would do would take advantage of you like that just for my own purposes." Erik desperately tried to explain.

"Why not, you did it before with Christine," Paris shot back.

"That was uncalled for, Paris and you know it. I love you and whether you want to believe me or not when I say that I'm over Christine is up to you. I won't force you to marry me if you don't want to." With that Erik turned away and looked out the window for the rest of the trip.

Paris frowned and turned away to look out the opposite window. The rest of the trip was continued in silence as neither occupant of the carriage wished to be the first to apologize and break the silence. When they arrived at their new home Paris climbed out before Erik could even get out to help her down. Then, hitching up her skirts with an annoyed twist Paris marched towards the house and waited for Erik to pay the driver and come open the door.

Erik glanced over at his pouting fiancée after he paid the driver. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to stand the silence from her. He knew it was partly his fault for making it sound as if he didn't want Christine at the wedding because he feared he still had romantic feelings for her when he really didn't but it was Paris' fault as well for jumping to conclusions like that even after all they had been through to get to where they were. So with a low growl Erik strode up to the front door, which he knew was unlocked thanks to Nadir, scooped Paris up into his arms, opened the door and entered. Paris gave a yelp as Erik swung her up into his arms and grasped his neck. She opened her mouth to yell at him but his lips on hers silenced her.

Paris melted against Erik as he kissed her so he deepened it. He gently let her slid down the length of his body as he held her tightly against him. He felt Paris' fingers grasping tightly to his shoulders as she strained on her tip toes to be closer to him. He smiled at that observation and deepened the kiss even more as he angled his head over hers. Paris moaned and curled her fingers through his hair. Slowly he broke the kiss and stared down into Paris' flushed face, his eyes burning with a fiery emotion that Paris could only call lust for she knew that was what burned in her eyes as liquid heat burned in her lower belly.

"You are the only one I want, Paris! Not Christine, the Queen of England or any other woman available, only you!" He breathed his breath hot on her face while he trailed kisses along her jaw.

"Erik," Paris moaned as she tangled her hands in his hair and let her head fall back. "I'm sorry, I was jealous."

Erik froze at that confession before he raised his head and looked at her for a moment. Then he burst out laughing and swung Paris around in a circle, much to the surprise of the girl. "Jealous, she was jealous!"

"Erik, put me down!" Paris laughed.

"Why didn't you just say so to begin with? I would have understood your feelings better and would have been able to prevent this argument." Erik set Paris down and pulled her into the parlor where Nadir had placed some of the furniture.

"I thought you understood that I was jealous. I pretty much said I was; maybe not in those exact words but the meaning was behind them."

Erik just shook his head with a smile. "I've had very little experience with women Paris as you well know so I'm afraid when it comes to understanding them I have not quite passed that lesson yet."

"Well, I hope I'm the only woman you have to ever understand other wise you will never pass that lesson, I will make sure of that," Paris frowned.

"I hope you're the only one too. There aren't many women like you, my dear and I'm lucky to have found you." Erik gathered Paris close and breathed in the scent of her hair. Paris giggled and pulled Erik in for another kiss.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

A/N: Here's the wedding . Also, I only own Paris and Father Michaels, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber.

**

Chapter Thirteen

**

The day of the wedding dawned bright and early on a rather warm day in June. Christine and Raoul had arrived the day before and were staying in the house with Erik and Paris. Raoul had been reluctant to do so but after Christine had whispered something into his ear Raoul had quickly accepted the invitation. Christine had explained to Paris later that evening that she had told Raoul that they needed to stay to keep an eye on Paris so that she didn't sneak into Erik's room and take advantage of his innocence before the wedding.

"How do you know I haven't already?" Paris had teased with a glint in her eye.

"Because you both looked as 'nervous as a whore in a church' as my dear Mama Valerius would say, so I knew nothing had happened between you two. Plus, with Erik's sense of honor as a gentleman I highly doubt he would be able to feel comfortable enough to take advantage of you. I know he has been treated badly in the past by so many people, myself included, but he always remained a gentleman around me," Christine had answered.

Paris had been rather surprised at how well Christine actually knew Erik but she had just smiled and thought no more about it for the rest of the evening.

Now the day of the wedding had approached and Paris was in her room pacing nervously in her petticoats. Her wedding gown was lying on her bed and Christine was sitting next to it. She watched Paris pace back and forth once more before she gave a sigh of annoyance and stood up.

"Paris Felicity Aldress if you don't stop pacing right this minute I'm going to slap you silly! You are driving me up a wall and making me nervous too and it's not even my wedding! Now get over here and put this dress on!"

Paris stumbled to a stop and glance over at Christine. "Oh Christine, I don't know if I can do this! What if Erik takes one look at me and suddenly decides he doesn't want me! I…I think I'm going to be sick!" Paris went deathly white and tried to run for the door but Christine blocked her exit.

"Oh, no you don't. You are fine and you will get in that dress if I have to stuff you in it. Erik will take one look at you and will not be able to take his eyes off of you even if there were a dozen naked goddesses vying for his attention. He hardly acknowledges me whenever you're in the same room so I don't think he's going to just suddenly call the whole thing off. Now come on and put this on, the poor man is probably ready to call the whole thing off out of nervousness himself. But if I know Raoul, he'll tie Erik down and not let him loose until the wedding is already underway."

Paris laughed at Christine's comments as she pictured them in her head. She liked the idea that Erik only looked at her and would only look at her even if there were a dozen naked goddesses vying for his attention. Paris took a deep calming breath and then let Christine help her get dressed. Christine was right, Erik was probably just as nervous as she was.

Erik could barely tie his cravat he was shaking so much. Raoul had to finally knock his hands out of the way and do it for him. Erik muttered thanks and then turned to look for his shoes and gloves. Nadir watched in amusement as the infamous Phantom of the Opera wandered around the small room in the chapel like an anxious child. Erik would sit, then stand and pace then sit again and repeat the whole process. It was driving the Vicomte nuts.

"Damn it Erik, sit down and stay seated or I will take that damn rope of yours and tie to you a chair!" Raoul shouted.

Nadir and Erik had looked aghast at the Vicomte as he cursed in a church. Raoul however, just flushed and clenched his jaw in an agitated manner. Erik sat down though and clenched his gloved hands together tightly.

"I can't do this," he suddenly said and ran for the door. Raoul leapt forward and tackled the poor man just as Nadir blocked the door with his body.

"Get a hold of yourself Erik, you act like you're the first man to ever get married," Nadir reprimanded.

"With the life I've led I don't deserve to have a woman love me the way Paris does much less be able to marry her," Erik growled as he disengaged himself from the Vicomte's grasp.

"Before I saw how happy you and Paris are together I would have agreed wholeheartedly but now I don't and I'm going to make sure you make an honest woman of Mademoiselle Aldress even if it kills one of us." Raoul climbed to his feet and brushed his jacket off.

"I don't think Miss Aldress will be very pleased if the one killed is her fiancé. From the looks I've been getting from her I fear she thinks I'm going to take Erik back to Paris and hand him right over to the police," Nadir grinned as he looked at Erik.

Erik just frowned and turned towards the mirror. He still wasn't used to seeing himself in broad daylight. He usually only looked at himself in a mirror in a darkened room. He reached up and smoothed his hair back and retied the ribbon holding it in a queue. Paris had asked if he would were his hair loose on their wedding day but Erik had said it would just be in the way. Now as he looked at himself he frowned and pulled the ribbon out. His hair fell around his face and shoulders in a wave of midnight. Combing a hand through the strands he brushed his hair back from his face but left it loose. He smiled at the result. His Paris would be pleased when she saw that he had left it loose after all. Maybe her voice did enchant him to a degree.

"Erik what are you doing?" Nadir demanded as he watched the Phantom preening in front of the mirror like a buffoon.

"Making myself presentable for Paris," Erik shot back with a glare towards the Persian.

"You look like a woman," Raoul laughed.

"Paris likes my hair down and specifically asked me to leave it loose for the wedding. I believe a man should always strive to keep his woman happy even if it means stooping to a subservient level."

Raoul and Nadir exchanged amused glances. Nerves did not sit well with the infamous Phantom. They made him silly.

"Just you wait Monsieur le Vicomte de Chagny. Once your ring is on Mademoiselle Daaé's finger and hers is on yours you will do anything to make her happy. One look into her big blue eyes the minute they fill up with tears and you will drop everything and rush off to figure out what you did wrong and try to fix it."

"Oh really, and since when have you become such an expert on women Monsieur _le fantôme_?" Raoul asked his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.

"Since I met Paris. She has been informing me about many things regarding women. The best source for answers about them is from one her self."

"Oh, and what else has Miss Aldress informed you of?" Nadir asked.

"Always apologize if she starts to cry for no reason and you don't know what's wrong. Most of the time men are the cause of the tears in some shape or form," Erik answered as he straightened his jacket.

Nadir and Raoul exchanged glances again only this time Raoul was worried. Neither saw Erik glance at them with a twinkle in his eye. Just then a knock sounded at the door and Father Michaels stuck his head in.

"Gentlemen, we're ready to begin the ceremony."

"Thank you, Father," Raoul nodded.

As soon as the door closed again Raoul and Nadir turned towards Erik and started. Erik was making a bee-line for the window. Both men rushed after him and grabbed the back of his coat.

"Get back here you idiot! There is a young woman waiting out there for you to put your name on hers and I don't think she'll take your running off like this very well. She might blame us for your escape!" Raoul cried out pulling hard on the bigger man.

"What happened to the dreaded Phantom of the Opera? The man who didn't give a damn for mankind and laughed in the face of danger? The man who didn't bow down to the death threats from the powerful Shah and his mother? The man who survived nearly two years of living in a disgusting cage as a circus freak? The man…"

"Shut up Daroga, I know who I am and what I've done and he's apparently just flown out the window," Erik sighed giving an almost wistful look at said window. Erik then turned and marched towards the door, his back straight and his strides long and sure.

Raoul grinned at Nadir before they hurried after the retreating form of the Phantom. Erik stood at the head of the church while Raoul and Nadir took their places near him. Father Michaels stood next to Erik with a soft smile on his face as he glanced at the nervous groom. A few seconds later the organ began to play and Erik turned towards the back of the church, his breath lodged in his throat. Christine entered first, a small smile on her face as she glanced first at Erik then at her own fiancé. Following Christine in a gown of white satin and lace was Paris. Her black hair was piled up in curls upon her head with a tiara of silver and white resting in them and a thin veil falling in waves about her head. The dress was a high necked gown with long pointed sleeves poofed at the shoulders. The bodice was tight and hugged her tiny waist like a second skin and then pooled out in folds and drapes to the floor in a full skirt with a small train. In her hands she carried a bouquet of blood red and black roses with baby's breath mixed with them.

Erik didn't realize that he had started towards her until he felt Raoul jerk him back. He noticed that Paris' smiled widened just a bit and he felt a small smile tug at his lips as well. Paris finally reached his side and he slipped her arm through his as they turned to face the priest.

"We are gathered here to bear witness to the union of Erik Benedict Desslar and Paris Felicity Aldress in Holy Matrimony…" Father Michaels began the ceremony. "Do you, Paris Felicity Aldress, promise to honor, cherish, and obey Erik Benedict Desslar and take him to be your lawfully wedded husband for richer or poorer, for good or bad, in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

Paris turned to Erik and smiled, "I do."

"And do you Erik Benedict Desslar promise to love, honor and cherish Paris Felicity Aldress and take you to be your lawfully wedded wife for richer or poorer, for good or bad, in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

"I do," Erik's deep voice filled the church with his strong and definite answer.

"If there is anyone here who believes these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold you peace," Father Michaels paused and when no one spoke out he continued with the ceremony. "Do you have the rings?"

Raoul produced the two rings and placed them on the open Bible. Father Michaels turned back towards the couple in front of him and gave a small smile.

"Paris, take this ring and repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed," Paris' voice was just above a whisper but it was loud and clear to Erik's ears as Paris slipped the band onto his finger.

"Now Erik, take this ring and repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed." Erik gazed deeply into Paris' eyes as he spoke the words that would bind her to him forever.

"Then by the power vested in me I know pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," Father Michaels announced, his rosy face beaming broadly as he closed his Bible.

Erik needed no further encouragement as he pulled Paris towards him, lifted her veil and pressed his lips against hers. As soon as they connected everyone and everything around them faded except for each other. Raoul glanced at his pocket watch when they still didn't part and he frowned. He cleared his throat loudly a few times before they finally separated. He received a glare from Erik.

"This is a House of God; you were desecrating it with that kiss. If you want to do that sort of thing go home," Raoul reprimanded with a mock frown.

"If you are finished Monsieur Desslar you need to sign the marriage certificate," Father Michaels spoke up stopping any further fighting from going on in the church.

"Of course, Father," Erik nodded. Then he, Paris and Nadir followed the priest into his back office to sign the certificate. Raoul and Christine joined them just in case they were needed. Nadir signed in the space marked for the witness then handed the pen to Father Michaels who signed his name as the one who performed the ceremony.

"Well my son, you are now officially a married man and I wish you both the best of luck. If you have any questions don't hesitate to see me, my door is always open."

"Thank you, Father." Erik shook the priest's hand and made sure to pay a sizable donation to the church. The small group then quietly left the church to return to Erik and Paris' home for a small reception.

"Oh, Paris I'm so happy for you! You are a married woman now, how does it feel?" Christine cried out happily as she clasped her friend's hands in her own.

Paris glanced over towards her new husband and smiled happily. "Wonderful, so far. I don't plan on letting him go now that I have him. Oh Christine, I never thought I could be this happy; not after the way my life was. Now with Erik by my side I know I can do anything!"

"You will come visit me and Raoul and you two must come to our wedding in December. It will be a small wedding not much bigger than yours was of course since Raoul knows so many more people than Erik does," Christine smiled.

Paris smiled back and nodded although she was a bit leery about returning to Paris so soon after leaving. There would be people at the de Chagny wedding who would recognize Paris and Erik and might send for the police. However, Paris said nothing of her thoughts out loud for fear of insulting Christine in some way.

After eating a late lunch Raoul and Christine said they had better be on their way. So good byes were said and the couple left promising to visit in the future. Nadir left shortly afterwards with a quick warning to Erik about staying out of trouble and a quick kiss on the bride's cheek with a warning about Erik's penchant for sleeping in. Paris had just laughed while Erik had chased Nadir out of the house with false threats upon his head.

As soon as Erik returned and closed the door behind him he froze and looked at Paris. His wife, he thought with a thrill. She still wore her wedding gown and looked even more beautiful than he could ever imagine. He realized that they were all alone now in their house. Paris turned and headed towards the stairs where she paused and glanced over her shoulder coyly. With a wink at her husband she jerked her head upwards.

Erik got the hint and with a growl he reached her in three strides. He scooped her up into his arms and kissed her hard as he made his way carefully up the stairs to the master bedroom. He paused just outside the door and looked down at Paris for a moment.

"You're mine now and I'm not letting you go for anything." With that he entered the bedroom and closed the door softly with his foot behind him.

A/N: Just a brief little side note, the next chapter is actually a very explicit Lemon so due to the rules of I can not post it. However, I have written this story in such a way that it can be read just fine without the Lemon. Though, if you really wish to read it you can go to my Website and read it there. Celticreeder.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris. The rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Fourteen

Paris woke to the feeling of a hard warm body pressed up against her side and an arm wrapped tightly around her. She relished the feeling for a moment before she opened her eyes and looked up at her husband. A grin spread across her face as she watched him sleep. She felt sore in places she never would have guessed to feel sore in but as she gazed at her husband and saw the small smile that rested upon his lips she knew she would never regret the soreness. She raised herself up a bit so that she could get a better look at Erik.

In the light coming through the window she could see her husband much easier than she had been able to last night in the candle light. His skin was dark just as it had been last night but it was a shade lighter than she had thought. It was a nice golden shade of caramel. She frowned when she saw the thin white scar upon the left side of his abdomen. She traced it lightly with her finger and reminded herself to ask him about it. She raised her eyes back to his face and her smile returned. His hair was spread about his head on the pillow and she couldn't resist running her fingers through it.

Glancing at the clock she saw that it was almost nine. She smiled when she remember Nadir telling her that Erik rarely got up before nine thirty so she decided to surprise her husband with a nice hot breakfast in bed. She climbed out carefully so as not to wake him up and made her way over to the large wardrobe across the room. Inside she found Erik had been storing his extra clothes inside it. She flipped through the robes until she found the smallest one. It was a soft velvet robe made of maroon and black. She pulled it on and resorted to her old way of laughing silently when she saw that it was still much too big on her. She rolled up the sleeves several times until she could at least see her hands but it still dragged upon the floor like a strange train. She shrugged and tied the robe tightly around her tiny waist. She had to wrap the cord around her middle several times other wise it would have dragged upon the floor and would have tripped her.

Paris shook her head with a smile as she glanced once more over at her still sleeping husband. He had rolled over and was now sleeping on his side. She could see the thin scars criss-crossing all over his back similar to the ones that marked hers. He had been through so much pain in his life. Paris only hoped she could make up for it with her love for him.

Paris carefully made her way downstairs and entered the kitchen. Looking around she set to work fixing up breakfast for herself and Erik. She hummed softly to herself as she flipped pancakes and checked on the sausage. She piled the croissants up on a plate and then placed the plate upon the silver serving tray she had pulled out. She poured two glasses of orange juice and set two tea cups aside and placed the coffee pot next to them. The newspaper was out by the front door and she had to remember to pay the young boy who brought it to them the next time she saw him. She picked the paper up and hurried back into the kitchen to gather the two serving trays. Carefully she made her way back up the stairs and went to the master bedroom door.

Paris pressed her ear up against the door but heard nothing so she set a tray down and used her free hand to open it. Then she picked up the tray again and entered the room. Erik was still asleep so Paris closed the door behind her softly with her foot. She padded over to the bed and set the trays upon the bedside table.

"Erik, _mon amour_, wake up. Breakfast is ready," Paris spoke softly as she gently shook his shoulder. Erik moaned and tried to roll away. Paris giggled softly but persevered. "Come on Erik, wake up. Don't make me pour hot coffee on you."

"Give me a minute," Erik mumbled into the pillow and pulled the sheet up over his shoulder.

"No, I made breakfast in bed!" Paris pouted and crossed her arms.

"Really?" Erik looked over his shoulder at her. When he saw that she was wearing one of his robes he rolled over completely and grinned. "Unless you're the food I highly doubt you made breakfast in bed. You made it down in the kitchen."

"You know what I mean! Now move over so I can get in and feed you. I made croissants," Paris smiled as she revealed the food.

Erik sat up with interest and eyed the food hungrily. He scooted over for Paris who climbed into the bed with the robe still on. Erik smiled at that and ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Paris handed him a plate filled with everything. Erik eyed it warily before turning his grey blue eyes back to her.

"You want me to eat all of this?"

"Of course, you got to keep yourself healthy. Besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Paris explained as she bit into her sausage.

"I thought I was healthy. I never ate breakfast before," Erik muttered as he spread jelly onto his croissant.

"You are healthy but skipping breakfast is not a good habit. If you just keep doing what you did before you married me you should be fine. Just as long as you eat, of course."

Erik just stared at Paris for a moment trying to figure out what she had just said before he realized that she meant he should still exercise as he had found himself doing in the years of living beneath the Opera House. Erik had taken up swimming in the lake and jogging late at night in the park. Before going to bed he would do sit-ups and push-ups. He had found that exercising was a great way to relax as well as keep him in shape. Seeing Paris glancing appreciatively at him from time to time made him grin. Obviously the exercise was good for other things, he thought.

When they finished eating Erik said he would be working on his music for the afternoon. Paris had smiled and said she would find something to do.

"I might work on the library. Those books still need to be put in the shelves and I could organize them," Paris smiled as Erik gathered her close for a kiss. "But first, I need to get dressed as do you. I don't want anyone coming to visit with you wandering around the house naked as a jaybird."

Erik laughed and held Paris tighter against him. "Worried some girl will decide to steal me away?"

Paris turned and looked up at him, her expression serious. "Yes, despite what you think, you are not ugly."

"You are too kind Madame, but I am afraid I will always disagree with you on that topic. My face is not the most pleasant face to look at unmasked. You are used to it and no longer see it as ugly, others will," Erik insisted with a shake of his head.

"Well, then I guess I won't have to worry about some pretty country girl stealing you away. But I still do not want you walking around the house naked, I might get too distracted and nothing will ever get done," Paris' smile returned quickly as she trailed a finger over Erik's chest and up to his chin where she tilted it down to her lips for a kiss.

"We are newly weds, its okay for you to be distracted. In fifty years from now that's when you have to start getting some work done."

Paris laughed when Erik's whiskers tickled her neck. Pulling back she looked at him with shining eyes. She had always wondered what Erik would look like with a beard but now that she gazed at him with his cheeks covered with black whiskers she decided that he would not look good with a beard. She preferred him clean shaven.

"A franc for your thoughts," he whispered with a smile.

"Don't grow a beard."

Erik stared at her for a moment in shock before he barked with laughter at her comment. Gathering her close he kissed her nose and rubbed his chin teasingly against her cheek.

"You have nothing to fear, love. I will not grow a beard."

Paris smiled and then climbed out of the bed. She gathered the dirty dishes and piled them onto the serving trays to take them back down to the kitchen. Erik rose out of bed after her and padded over to the wardrobe to retrieve a robe. He turned just in time to catch Paris staring at him. When she realized that she had been caught Paris raised her eyes to his guiltily and blushed. Erik just laughed and tied the cord of his robe around him.

"I'll, uh, just take these downstairs and clean them up," Paris stuttered as she turned quickly and hurried out the door being careful not to trip over the trailing ends of the robe she wore. Paris had not been prepared to see her husband standing in the middle of the room completely naked. It was one thing to see him that way when the room was lit only by flickering candlelight for then she couldn't see everything very well. But in the daylight her husband had been exposed completely and Paris had had to remind herself that she had seen it all last night even if some parts of him looked different in the morning light.

Paris took a deep breath to calm her racing heart before she began to clean the dishes and kitchen. It wasn't long before the soothing notes of the piano began to drift into the kitchen from the music room just across the hall. Paris could imagine Erik sitting at the piano his long fingers flying across the ebony and ivory keys, stopping only to write the notes down. Paris closed her eyes as images of what Erik had done to her the night before with those fingers came to mind. With a gasp she opened her eyes quickly as her skin tingled. Her cheeks were hot and she knew she had to stop thinking about that or she would never get anything done.

"I guess I don't need him to strut around naked to distract me after all. My imagination is doing a pretty good job on its own," she muttered to herself as she finished putting the dishes away.

Paris made her way upstairs and into the bedroom she had been sleeping in before her marriage to Erik. She opened her wardrobe and pulled out a cream colored blouse and a reddish purple dress. Once dressed, she pulled on her black boots and ran a brush through her shoulder length hair. Looking at herself in the mirror she smiled with satisfaction before she tied a scarf over her hair to protect it from the dust that was sure to be all over the library.

Humming with the music that drifted out of the music room, Paris made her way downstairs and into the library. The bookshelves had been built into the walls which had pleased Paris greatly for that meant they wouldn't take up extra space. Paris looked around and sighed as she gazed at all the boxes that were scattered all over the floor. They were filled with all the books that Erik had managed to salvage from the destruction of his home. Paris had also packed all of her own books from her flat and they had bought several more before they had left, mostly the ones that had been destroyed by the mob.

Straightening her back, Paris strode over to one of the boxes. Kneeling down she opened it and began to sort through the books. She planned on putting them alphabetically. She lost track of the time as she unpacked and put the books in their proper places. It was well into the afternoon when she was interrupted by Erik's voice.

"You can take a break, you know?" he chuckled as he leaned against the doorframe.

Paris looked up and smiled when she saw her husband. He wore a pair of black pants and a white flowing shirt that was open at the neck and the sleeves were rolled up. His hair was still left loose but he had put his mask back on. He was grinning at her.

"This coming from the man who only takes a break from composing when exhaustion hits him or when someone tells him to stop. What time is it, anyway?" Paris asked as she stretched the kinks out of her back.

"A little after three in the afternoon. Have you not left here since doing the dishes?" Erik frowned.

"I went upstairs to get dressed but that was before I came in here. I guess I just got so involved with the unpacking that I lost track of the time," Paris answered sheepishly.

"Well, come on out of there and join me for a snack. I think you need to eat something now." Erik held out a hand to his wife, his wedding band sparkled in the sun light.

Paris grinned and hurried over to him. He threaded his fingers through hers and then led her into the music room. He had set up a tea set and a plate of coffee cakes. Paris sat down in one of the large cushioned chairs and picked up a cake. Erik watched, amused, as she bit into it and moaned with delight as she chewed.

"Good?" he asked.

"Yes, very," Paris answered as she swallowed the cake down with a gulp of tea.

Erik laughed and sipped his own tea. Glancing over at the piano his smile widened. "I want you to hear the new piece I'm working on. I'm thinking of selling it. No one really knows my real name and if I use it I should be able to sell my music for money."

"Don't we have enough? I thought you had been saving for years," Paris frowned.

"Oh, we have plenty for quiet a few years to come but I would still like to earn some just in case," Erik answered as he walked over to the piano.

"I see, well do you think I could do something in the village?"

"Look around and find out. You might be able to do something with your talents. Maybe you could teach some of the children to play the piano; you're very good at that."

"Maybe. I'll ask Father Michaels if he knows anything. Maybe he can recommend something," Paris smiled.

"That's a good idea; you can do that in a couple of days. Don't want him to think there's something wrong with our marriage already," Erik grinned as he flexed his fingers over the keys.

Paris laughed and nodded. Then she settled back and allowed Erik's music to drift over her like a blanket. No, her marriage was anything but terrible at the moment, she thought with a contented sigh.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris; the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Fifteen

For the rest of the week Paris and Erik spent their life in wedded bliss. Erik worked on his music in the mornings and into the afternoon while Paris worked on unpacking boxes and arranging the furniture properly. And every night Erik would make love to Paris, each relished in the knowledge that they had finally found someone to love them for who they were.

Paris had finished the library and was very pleased with the result. Erik's desk was placed in the left hand corner of the room facing into the library. A large fireplace was situated in the far right hand wall with the bookshelves on either side of it. Paris had laid one of Erik's Persian rugs upon the floor in front of the fireplace and had placed two black arm chairs on one side and a black couch opposite them. It was a nice cozy place to read in. Paris was particularly fond of the large floor to ceiling windows that were situated directly across from the door.

Erik had smiled at his wife when he saw all the work she had put into getting the library all set up. He had treated her to one of his rare home cooked meals that night. Paris had then read out loud to him from one of her favorite books, Victor Hugo's _Hunchback of Notre Dame_ much to Erik's amusement.

"Have you always been attracted to deformed men who have a penchant for music of some form?" he had asked his tone light and teasing.

"Of course, I always prefer the unfortunate ones. They always tug at my heartstrings," Paris had smiled as she snuggled closer against Erik's side as they stared into the fire.

"I hope you don't become too attached to any other unfortunate men for I fear I may not be responsible for my actions."

Paris had laughed and looked up at her husband. "I don't think any man could take your place, my darling. You are one of a kind and I only give my whole heart to one man."

"That's good to hear," Erik had smiled and kissed her head. They had retreated to the bedroom shortly after that.

Paris now found her self alone in the house working on the boxes in the bedroom that Erik had slept in before they were married. Erik was in the village running some errands. They had been rather surprised to discover that they had been accepted quite readily by the villagers. Some had looked questioningly at Erik's mask but very few had actually asked about it. Those that had had a received a brief answer of "I was burned in a fire as a child," from Erik. No one asked to see his face. In fact, Paris had seen some of the village girls looking at Erik with a certain appreciation in their eyes whenever she and Erik had ventured into town before the wedding. Paris had not been pleased about that and had refused to let Erik leave the house for a week to go into town. She had seen to any purchases herself, much to Erik's confusion.

In the back of Paris' mind she still worried that, even though Erik was now married, the girls would still try to lure him away. As Paris had told them that night of their wedding, he was a very attractive man with his mask on and he was a pleasure to look at. Any girl would be a fool to not see that but Erik was convinced that he was an ugly old man that was lucky to have found one woman to love him for all of him. He refused to believe that he could attract any other women besides his wife.

Now as Paris unpacked the boxes in Erik's former bedroom she pushed all unpleasant thoughts about Erik and the village girls out of her mind. She glanced over at the large black throne-like chair that was sitting in one of the far corners. She needed to remember to get Erik to help her take it into their bedroom. She was just as fond of that chair as Erik was and she felt it belonged in their bedroom. It surprisingly matched their bedroom décor. Christine had surprised the couple with a beautiful bed as a wedding present. She had sheepishly admitted that it was actually from Raoul as well but that she was the one who had wanted to give it to the happy couple. It was a beautiful four posted rich dark mahogany bed. Paris had been overwhelmed by the sheer size of the bed and even Erik had been almost speechless.

Now the bed had beautiful black and red bedding. Those had been from Raoul, who had grinned and said that he doubted they would be used very often since the sheets would most likely be tossed onto the floor. That had caused the bride to blush bright red and the groom to growl and glare at the Vicomte.

Paris smiled when she realized that the Vicomte had been right to a degree. With a contented sigh Paris returned her attention to the boxes in front of her. Opening one up, she lifted the lid and gasped. There inside were all of the Christmas gifts that she had given to Erik. Carefully, she pulled the items out one by one and admired them. She was surprised that they had survived the destruction of Erik's house. Most of his belongings apart from the furniture had been destroyed. Paris had a feeling that Erik had hidden these someplace safe before the destruction. Knowing that Erik cared enough about her to make sure these were safe brought tears to Paris' eyes. She smiled as she set each item aside and opened another box. She would have to put the gifts someplace special for Erik.

Two hours later, Paris had gone through all the boxes in the bedroom and had arranged the room so that it could be used as a guest bedroom. She had put the Christmas presents in the master bedroom for now and would ask Erik where he would like them to be stored. Paris pulled the kerchief off of her head and breathed a sigh of relief when she finished placing the last box down in the cellar. Closing the cellar door behind her Paris headed for the kitchen to get a drink.

Paris took her glass of water into the library. She planned on reading until Erik came home. She was a bit surprised that he wasn't back yet but she knew he probably had his reasons for not coming back. Walking over to the arm chairs she smiled and gave a sound of annoyance when she saw the book sitting on one of the side tables. Erik, Paris had discovered, had a penchant for leaving books lying around when he finished them. For some reason she couldn't get it through his thick skull that books were to be returned to their original place when finished. Sighing Paris picked the book up and looked at it. Jane Austin's _Pride and Prejudice_ she read with a slight frown. That was Christine's favorite book. The young singer was always talking about it whenever she wasn't talking about opera or her late father. Paris sank onto the couch as she just stared out the large window. Why would Erik be reading this? Had he lied to her about not wishing he had married Christine? A soft purring sound filled the quiet room causing Paris to jump in surprise. Looking down she gave a small smile. It was Ayesha.

"Hey there, beautiful, how are you, huh? I'm just being foolish. Erik loves me, not Christine. Why can't I get it through my head that he does? This will be our little secret, Ayesha; Erik must never know that I doubted his love for me. Erik probably doesn't even know that this is Christine's favorite book and I'm just being paranoid. Lots of men read this," Paris laughed softly as she stroked the Siamese's soft fur.

Settling more comfortably upon the couch Paris opened the book and began to read. Ayesha settled across Paris' shoulders like a stole and kept her mistress company for the next hour. Paris was so absorbed in the story that she never heard the soft footsteps behind her. Two hands suddenly reached out and covered her eyes while a voice spoke softly to her.

"Guess who?"

Paris sat up straighter and reached up to feel the heads covering her eyes. "Oh, Pierre my darling, you came! I was so afraid you wouldn't! We must be quick though, my ogre of a husband will be home any minute and he must never know that we have been seeing each other, my love!" Paris gasped excitedly.

The hands were ripped away from her eyes in a flash and Paris had to blink rapidly in order to adjust to the sudden return of light.

"Who the hell is Pierre?" a voice growled, dangerously low.

"Pierre? Wha… 'Gasp' you're not Pierre!"

"No, last time I checked I was your ogre of a husband," Erik's eyes burned into his wife's.

"My love, you have returned!" Paris cried out happily as she climbed to her feet and, to Erik's surprise, launched herself over the couch and into his arms. Erik took a step back as his arms caught Paris around the waist as she covered his face with kisses.

"What is going on here?" he demanded. "Who the hell is Pierre, Paris?"

"No one, darling, just a figment of my imagination. You are the only man in my life."

Erik stared into his wife's laughing grey blue eyes before he laughed. "I hate to admit it but you really had me going there for while. I seriously believed you had a secret lover."

"How could I ever have another man in my life when you have taken my whole heart? You are my life, Erik. Never doubt that, I love you and only you." Paris ended her statement with a hard kiss on his mouth.

The kiss would have gone on longer if Ayesha hadn't decided that she was tired of being ignored. She 'meowed' and gently clawed at Erik's leg. Laughing, Erik set his wife down and bent down to scoop the impatient feline up into his arms.

"How are you my darling? Have you been a good girl?"

Ayesha's only response was to purr loudly and rub her head up against Erik's chin. Erik met Paris' eyes over the cat's head and their gazes locked. Leaning down, Erik pressed his lips softly against his wife's.

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you." They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments more before Paris spoke again. "So, what took you so long? I expected you back a few hours ago."

"I got stopped by Father Michaels on my way home. Apparently Nadir had made a comment to him that I was a musician and used to be an architect. Father Michaels asked if I would play the church organ for Mass. I have also been asked to commission a new church. The current one is too small now that the village has grown over the past couple of years," Erik explained as he led Paris back to the couch.

"Really? What did you tell him?" Paris asked her excitement evident.

"I told him I would do the architecture work but I wasn't too keen on playing for Mass."

"Would you be paid to do it?"

"He said I would be but you know I'm not overly fond of churches. I was not as comfortable as I seemed on our wedding day. I have never been welcomed into a church and while I was baptized a Catholic I never practiced it. Until I found you I had given up on God."

"You became an atheist?"

Erik nodded. "With my face no church wanted to have anything to do with me. I was a spawn of the devil and I did not belong in a church. Besides, I had never had any reason to believe in God. I had been shunned for my entire life by people who claimed God loved all his creatures. No, I can not play the organ for Mass."

Paris just looked at her husband and clasped his hand between hers in understanding. Looking at his pained expression she knew how much it hurt him to admit that. Erik turned and looked at her and gave a small smile.

"You never told me you were an architect."

"I thought I had. I helped build the Opera House, that's how I knew so much about it and the secret passageways. I also worked as one in Persia for a short while but those are times that I wish to never remember consciously," Erik said, his tone brooked no argument.

Paris nodded and turned to look out the window as the sun began to set. They were both silent for a while before Erik's stomach suddenly growled. Paris broke out into giggles while Erik flushed in embarrassment. Standing up, Erik pulled Paris up off the couch and they headed for the kitchen where they worked together to prepare dinner. Paris looked over at her husband at one point while he was cutting up some vegetables for the stew and smiled. He may have been shunned from society for most of his life but God had obviously just been waiting for the right time to give him his chance at life, real life. And Paris was glad she had been Erik's salvation. With that she leaned over and kissed Erik's cheek before returning to the rolls she was making.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris, the twins and Father Michaels. The rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Sixteen

"Erik! Erik! Erik, guess what?"

Erik looked up from the designs he was working on as he heard his wife's excited shouts. A few seconds later Paris burst into the music room where Erik had set up a drafting table for his work on the new church. Her cheeks were red, her hair was mussed and her eyes were bright. Erik had only a second to admire how beautiful his wife looked before she launched herself at him and began to smother him with kisses.

"I got a job! I'm going to be giving piano lessons to some of the villagers! And Father Michaels asked if I would consider playing the church organ since you were so adamant against playing it. I told him I would be glad to. Isn't that wonderful?" Paris said through her kisses. Erik just laughed and said it was.

"You now have something to keep yourself occupied with. You were getting rather restless here."

"I have to write to Christine and tell her the wonderful news. She was convinced that I wouldn't be able to do anything if it didn't involve dancing."

Erik just smiled and kissed his wife happily. They had been married for almost a month now and ever since Erik had begun working on the plans for the new church Paris had been restless. She could never sit still and Erik had a feeling she was just bored. She had always been busy and she had always had her dancing. Now it looked as if she would have something to keep her occupied.

Erik watched as his wife scurried out of the room to go write a letter to Christine. He shook his head with an amused sigh and returned to the drawings on the desk in front of him. He frowned in annoyance when one of the walls came out crooked and he had to erase it and redo it. Composing music was a lot easier, he concluded with a sigh. After another attempt to correct the wall failed Erik growled in frustration and threw his pencil down before stomping out of the room. He needed a break.

Paris was sitting in the parlor working on her needlepoint when Erik entered. She looked up at him with a smile before returning to her work. Erik made his way over to her and sat down next to her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked looking up at him with concern.

"No, I just needed a break. One of the walls isn't coming out right and I was getting frustrated with it. Why don't we go for a walk? It's a nice evening and we haven't walked through the woods in a while."

Paris glanced over at the clock that sat upon the mantle before she put her sewing away. "That sounds like fun. Let me just grab my shawl and we can go."

Erik rose and followed Paris out into the foyer. He waited for her to go upstairs to get her shawl. He ran a hand through his hair and then readjusted the ribbon that held his hair back. A minute later Paris came down the stairs and joined her husband at the foot of the stairs.

"Ready?" he asked.

"_Ouí_, let's go," Paris smiled.

They went out the back door that opened up into the woods. The sun was setting and the weather was cool for July. The sky was clear and the stars were just starting to appear in the pink and orange sky. Paris grinned as she caught sight of fireflies glowing in the trees. She looked up at Erik to see if he saw them and laughed when he grinned down at her to indicate that he had. Slipping her arm free of his she darted out into the woods and began to chase the fireflies. Erik watched with an amused smile as his wife flitted about like a child. His smiled turned wistful when she caught one and gave a squeal of delight. He wondered if Paris ever wished for children. Erik had never really thought about it much but now as he watched his wife behaving like a child he found himself wishing for a daughter just like her.

"Look at it Erik, isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Paris stage whispered as she held out her cupped hands to show him the firefly caught inside them.

"Well, it is cute but I've seen cuter," Erik said with a wink.

"Been looking in the mirror again?" Paris teased.

"Only if I was looking at your reflection."

Paris laughed and let the firefly go. They stood watching it fly away for a moment before they continued their walk. Erik was tempted to ask Paris about her thoughts on children but she looked so content he didn't want to ruin the moment by speaking about such a serious topic.

"We should have a picnic one day. We could have one right out here or even by the stream we found the last time we were here," Paris spoke up softly.

"Hmm, that would be nice," Erik answered just as softly.

"I think my voice enchanted Father Michaels today," Paris said, her voice serious.

"Why do you think that?" Erik frowned.

"Well, when we met today he kept asking why you didn't want to play the organ for the church. I kept telling him that I didn't know until I finally just looked at him and said 'Father Michaels, my husband does not want to play the church organ for Mass so please stop talking about it.' And he did. He just froze and stared at me the whole time with a glazed look upon his face. It was the same look I always got whenever my voice enchanted someone. He didn't even know what he had been talking about when he finally came to. I felt so bad that I told him that he hadn't been talking to me but that I had just stopped by and he looked out of it so I had asked if he was okay. He believed me and then asked if I knew how to play the piano or the pipe organ. That's when he offered me the job as the church organist.

"I feel so bad for what my voice does. I know it's gotten better. Not so many people are affected by it so much but some are and I'm worried that I'll say something terrible one day causing a problem. I'm worried about the children I'll be teaching. They will be more susceptible to my voice and I don't want to cause any unintentional harm to any of them," Paris' voice thickened with tears as she sank down onto a fallen log, her posture dejected.

"I'm afraid I don't know what to say, Paris. I know my voice has had similar results as yours but never to the extreme has yours had. However, if children are more susceptible to your voice then they'll follow your instructions correctly. As long as you don't say something that could cause problems then there should be no problems. Encouragement will work the best for them for your voice will give them the confidence they need. I think you'll find that in this situation your voice is a blessing rather than a curse when it comes to the enchantment," Erik said as he attempted to reassure Paris. "I believe that now that you are older and your voice is more matured the enchantment isn't as strong as it was when you were little. You can control it more."

"Do you really think so?" Paris sniffed as she turned her tear bright eyes up to him.

"I do," Erik smiled softly before leaning over and capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

"Thank you, that means so much to me. I've just been so happy that I completely forgot about the affect of my voice on people. It doesn't help that you aren't affected so I'm not constantly reminded of it. However, I will have to be careful what I say from now on otherwise I might lose my jobs."

Erik was silent as he held Paris tightly against his side. He rested his cheek upon the top of her head and together they sat staring at the darkened woods and watched the fireflies light up. After a while Erik decided that they had best head back to the house. It was getting late and they still hadn't had dinner.

"Come on, we better head back. I don't know about you but I'm getting hungry," Erik smiled as he roused the woman next to him.

"Hmm, yeah," Paris mumbled as she sat up with a yawn.

Erik chuckled softly and helped Paris stand up. Then, slipping her arm through his he led her back through the woods towards the house.

Paris woke the next morning and just lay in bed staring out the window for a moment. Today she would teach her first students piano. Two little girls would be coming over around one. After last night Paris still worried that her voice would hold some strange power over the children. Erik had promised her that he would stay in the house just in case she needed him and that made Paris feel slightly better. Glancing over her shoulder she gave a small smile as she watched her husband sleep. He was on his back with one hand flung over his eyes while the other rested upon his flat stomach.

Rolling over Paris propped her head up on her hand and traced her other hand over his ribs. Glancing up at his face Paris suppressed a giggled when she saw Erik's lips twitch unconsciously in reaction towards her slight tickling. She decided to be bolder and so she traced her fingers down towards his navel. Before she had time to react she found herself being flung upon her back with a large body rising above her.

"You were disturbing my sleep, Madame," Erik growled playfully.

Paris glanced over at the bedside clock and then returned her gaze up to her husband's. "Its 9:32, time to get up. Tsk, tsk sleeping in Erik, you have become so lazy in married life," Paris tsked with a sigh of disappointment.

"When you demand nights like last night I believe I'm entitled to a couple of extra hours of sleep. You stole some of mine with your demands," Erik shot back as he lowered his head and kissed her neck.

"You seemed rather demanding yourself, Monsieur, so don't put all the blame on me," Paris pointed out as she raised her head and nipped Erik's earlobe. Erik shivered at the sensation and pulled back to look down at his wife again.

"I still demand my hours of sleep even if you don't seem to need them."

Paris just laughed and pulled Erik down for another kiss before she shoved his body to the side and climbed out. She walked over to the foot of the bed and pulled on her nightgown and robe before turning to face Erik. He lay on his side with the sheet draped over the lower half of his body. He was watching her with an amused smile.

"I'm not bringing breakfast up here today. You'll have to come downstairs and get it, not that you deserve any after what you just did," Paris pretended to be angry as she turned and quickly made her way out the door. Erik's laughter followed her all the way down to the kitchen.

Around a quarter to one Paris found herself in the music room nervously making sure everything was all right. She had a plate of cookies cooling in the kitchen for the girls to take home to their mother and she had Erik's easiest sheet music piled near the piano. Now all she needed was her pupils and a miracle that her voice would not enchant them in the wrong way.

"Hey, cookies!" Erik's voice sounded from across the hallway from the kitchen.

"Don't even think about touching those cookies, Monsieur le fantôme! Those are for Mary and Carrie to take home," Paris said as she strode into the kitchen to keep her husband away from the sweets.

"Can't I have just one?" Erik pouted.

"All right, but just one," Paris acceded. Erik grinned and grabbed a cookie before he gave Paris a kiss on the cheek then left the kitchen. Paris had been rather surprised to learn that Erik had a rather serious sweet tooth. She had discovered it long before she and Erik had married. She had baked a bunch of little cakes one day while she had been down in his home during one of Christine's lessons. After Paris had set them out to cool she had gone to take a bath. Upon her return to the kitchen a half hour later nearly half the little cakes had disappeared. Paris had stared at the empty places for nearly a full minute before she had turned around and marched towards the music room where she knew Erik and Christine were practicing.

Paris had pulled out her note pad and written her question upon it before entering the room. Christine had looked up and upon seeing the rather murderous expression on her face had stuttered to a halt in the middle of the song. Erik had turned around confused as to why Christine had stopped singing so suddenly. Paris had seen him go slightly pale when he saw her but other than that he had given no indication that he knew what was wrong. Paris held up her notepad so they could see her question.

"Who ate some of the cakes in the kitchen?"

"You made cakes? Oh, can I have one?" Christine had exclaimed while writing the question down at the same time. Paris knew that as innocent as Christine was that that reaction was not feigned. Paris had nodded to Christine before turning her full attention to Erik.

Paris had watched as Erik had gone a slight shade paler than before and he swallowed quite loudly. Christine was already making a mad dash for the door and Erik had shot her a 'traitor' look before looking anywhere but at Paris.

"You ate nearly half of them!" Paris had written.

"I was just making sure they were edible. You never know with some food ingredients these days," Erik had written back. Paris could see through his lie even without it being spoken out loud.

"You could have just asked for a cake! You shouldn't have eaten that many, they'll make you sick. Why did you eat so many, anyway?" Paris wrote.

"I liked them," Erik had written his expression sheepish.

Paris had read the short answer but it had said everything she had needed to know. Erik was a lover of sweets. From that day on Paris had always made sure to make extra whenever she cooked something sweet. The last thing she had needed was for Erik to consume all the sweets before anyone else even got a chance to try one. She still couldn't believe that Erik had eaten that many cakes. Of course he had paid for it that night but Paris had refused to sympathize for him even when she cleaned out his bed pan repeatedly that night.

Paris was brought out of her daydreams by the sound of someone knocking on the door. Quickly hurrying out of the kitchen Paris smoothed her hair down and straightened her skirts before pausing at the front door. Erik was standing in the library doorway watching her and that was all the encouragement Paris needed to take a deep calming breath and opening the front door.

"Welcome, how are you girls today?" Paris asked with a smile.

"Fine, thank you Ma'am," the two girls answered at the same time. Mary and Carrie Chaucer were twins around the age of ten. Both had faces full of freckles and heads full of frizzy carrot red hair. Their eyes were lime green that always seemed to be laughing. Their mother was Irish but their father was English. Their mother, Isabelle, had wanted her girls to learn the piano but there had never been anyone in the village that was talented enough to teach it. She had told Paris that she was a godsend in her lilting Irish tinted French.

"Well, shall we get started?" Paris smiled.

"Yes Ma'am," the girls smiled back shyly.

"Well, right this way," Paris led the way towards the music room. She caught Erik's wink before he disappeared back into the library.

"Who was that man?" Carrie asked glancing back towards the library.

"That was my husband, Monsieur Desslar. He's working on the new church," Paris answered, her voice showing how proud she was of Erik.

"Oh, remember Mary, Father told us that he was that man from Paris who had agreed to construct the new church?" Carrie cried out, a grin stretching across her freckled face as the three entered the music room.

"I remember, he's the one with the mask on his face…oh, I'm sorry Madame Desslar…I…I," Mary paled and started to apologize. Paris just laughed.

"Don't worry about it Mary, my husband is used to comments like that. Though, I would appreciate it more if you refrained from making any further comments about my husband's mask."

"Of course, Ma'am. Is it true that he's also a wonderful musician?"

"I'd like to think so. I have some of his compositions here but I'm afraid most of them are on the more difficult side and you won't be able to play them just yet," Paris answered with a smile, glad that they were on a safer topic.

"Oh, would you play one for us? Just one before the lesson?" Carrie asked.

Paris looked at the stack of compositions that had her husband's initials labeled in the corners for a moment before smiling and nodding at the twins. While the girls settled down upon the sofa Paris pulled out one of the compositions that Erik had composed with her in mind. It was titled _Silent Love_ and had always been one Paris' favorites. Sitting at the piano Paris did a quick run of the scales before placing her fingers in the correct positions over the keys. The minute she began to play the notes everything around her faded save the music. The notes danced about her in a spiral of emotions that Paris knew Erik had felt as he had composed the piece. Erik always put his whole soul into every piece of music he wrote which made it all the more compelling to listen to and play. The notes slowly faded away as the song came to an end and Paris slowly came down from her euphoria. Opening her eyes she cast a quick glance over towards the two girls who sat spell bound by the music. A movement of black out of the corner of her eye caught Paris' attention. Erik stood there in the shadows.

"Oh, wow, that was absolutely beautiful, Madame Desslar! Did Monsieur Desslar really write that?" Carrie gasped her eyes wide.

Paris ducked her head as her cheeks turned pink under Erik's steady gaze. "Yes," she whispered.

"Wow, I want to learn to play that piece first when I'm ready for it! Do you think I'll be able to play it just like you did?" Carrie asked.

"With lots of practice I'm sure you'll learn to play it better than I did. Now, shall we begin your lessons? After all, I already know how to play and I don't think your mother would be too pleased if you girls didn't learn at least a few scales," Paris said bringing her gaze back to the girls.

"Yes Ma'am," they answered.

"Good, now who wants to go first?"


	17. Chapter Seventeen

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris and Patrick, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Seventeen

For the next three weeks Paris taught piano to the village children. Monday through Friday she had two to three children a day coming over. And every Sunday she played the organ in church for Mass. The first Sunday she had played she had been slightly overwhelmed by the sound of the music filling the church. However, on the second Sunday she managed to convince Erik to join her up in the loft where the organ was situated.

"No one will know you're there, Erik. And I really want you to hear me play," Paris had explained softly. After Erik had looked into his wife's eyes for a moment he had sighed and agreed despite his obvious reluctance to step inside the church.

So every Sunday Erik would join Paris up in the loft and would hide in the shadows. He let the music overwhelm him and he always felt as though his soul was being washed clean bit by bit every time Paris played. He would watch Paris play and cling to the knowledge that she loved him for he knew that if she hadn't, he never would have ventured into the church. Paris would never make him do something he didn't really want to do but she had somehow known that he had wished to hear her play at Mass. So she had given him a suggestion that made it sound as though she really wanted him to be there. Erik knew that Paris did really want him to be there but by giving him an excuse she had provided him with a reason for going without him having to feel scared about stepping into the church filled with people. Granted many of those people had accepted him to a degree Erik still knew that they hadn't accepted him as fully as Paris had and they probably never would. His mask would always be a physical barrier between himself and the villagers.

So Erik listened to Paris play every Sunday and worked on the new church. The plans had been finalized and construction had gotten underway. Erik had to spend much of his time at the construction site now and he even began to help with the building of the church himself. The men in the village had been surprised when Erik had pulled off his jacket and vest and had rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a hammer and had practically jumped into the foray of work. Many of the men had believed that because Erik was from Paris he had believed himself to be better than them. Erik had always been aloof and almost cold towards the villagers but seeing him jump into the work like that had made many of them rethink their opinions regarding Monsieur Desslar.

"My God, Erik what have you been doing?" Paris had exclaimed when Erik had entered the house covered in dust and sweat.

"Constructing a church, my dear," he had laughed.

"Well don't think I'm going to kiss you smelling like that!" Paris had frowned wrinkling her nose in disgust. Erik had just laughed and ignored her protests by scooping her up into his arms and kissing her soundly on the lips.

Erik smiled as he returned to the work he had lying on his desk in the library. He could hear Paris in the music room working with one of her students now.

"Right hand over left, Patrick, yes like that," Paris smiled softly as she help young Patrick Mason play _Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata_. Patrick was about nine years old with shaggy brown hair and big brown eyes. His father was the village butcher and his wife wanted Patrick to learn piano. Paris had found that Patrick had a wonderful talent for piano and thus encouraged him greatly. She hated playing favorites with her students but Patrick was one of her best pupils.

"You have been practicing!"

"You told me to. You said if I wanted to become better I had to practice all the time," Patrick said, confused as to why his teacher sounded so shocked about him practicing.

"Well I hope you haven't practiced all the time. You should have fun as well."

"Oh, I've done that too. Papa would be mad if all I did was practice the piano. He's going to teach me how to be a butcher when I'm old enough," Patrick grinned showing a gap where his two front teeth were missing.

"That's wonderful, Patrick. Oh, before I forget here's the money I owe your father for the turkey I purchased the other day. I promised I'd send the money with you after your lesson," Paris said pulling out the francs she needed.

"Is my lesson over?" Patrick asked pocketing the money.

"For today it is. I'll see you next week, alright?"

"Yes Ma'am, _au revoir_, Madame Desslar," Patrick grinned as he took his music and hurried out the door. "_Au revoir_, Monsieur Desslar," he called as he passed by the library.

"_Au revoir, Patrick_," Erik smiled as the boy left through the front door.

As soon as the door was shut Erik stood up and left the library. A quick glance in the music room showed him that Paris was no longer there. Looking in the direction of the kitchen he smiled. Paris was moving about preparing dinner.

"I take it the lesson went well?"

"Of course. I'm so proud of him, he's one of my best students so far," Paris frowned as she continued. "I hate playing favorites since some of the children are slower when it comes to learning the notes and some don't always have a chance to practice as much as some of the others. It was kind of Father Michaels to allow some of the children to practice on the church piano since not all the children have access to a piano at home but still…"

"I understand." Erik said and he did.

Paris smiled and gave Erik a quick kiss on the cheek before she turned and returned her attention to dinner preparations. Erik took that as his cue to leave.

A few days, later Paris was dusting the parlor when a letter was brought to the door. After Paris paid the delivery man she looked at the letter in her hand. It was from Christine. Opening it Paris smiled. It was a wedding invitation for the de Chagny wedding. The date had been set for December 15th and would be held in the de Chagny chapel.

Hurrying into the library Paris pulled out Erik's date book and flipped to December. There was nothing but continued work on the new church listed for the week of the 15th. Smiling Paris picked up a pen and wrote the event in the space for the 15th then she closed the book and left the room. She hoped Erik returned home soon so she could tell him the news.

She didn't have long to wait. Erik came home a couple of hours later, dusty, sweaty and tired. Paris hurried over to him with a glass of lemonade and waited for him to sit down in the parlor and get a gulp of the drink. Erik looked at his wife with a raised brow. She was excited about something.

"Yes?"

"Guess what we got today?"

"Paris, I'm not exactly in the mood for guessing games. I'm in dire need of a bath and a change of clothes, maybe even a nap before dinner. So please just tell me," Erik sighed closing his eyes.

"Fine, we got an invitation to Christine and Raoul's wedding. It's on December 15th. I already wrote it down in your date book but here's the invitation if you want to see it," Paris pouted and handed her husband the invitation.

Erik's eyes shot open at the news and he took the invitation from Paris' hand. Glancing at it he saw the location and swallowed. He raised his eyes to Paris' and winced. She was so happy he hated to have to ruin it.

"I don't think I can go," he said softly.

"What? Why not? You don't have anything going on that week," Paris frowned.

"Paris, this wedding will be in just outside of Paris at the de Chagny estate. There will be people at this wedding who will have attended the Operas and will recognize us, me especially since this face is rather hard to forget," Erik growled as he looked away.

Paris was silent for a long time. She just stared down at the carpet. Finally she raised her eyes to Erik's face, her expression determined.

"I'll write to Christine explaining the situation. Maybe she and Raoul will come up with something that will allow us to go but not be seen. We could hide in the back of the chapel."

Erik just sighed and stood up. "If that is possible then we'll go otherwise I will not be going and I would advise you not to either. I don't want to lose you."

Paris nodded and watched as her husband left the room. He had sounded so sad at the thought of losing her and she knew he hated having to say that if nothing could be arranged then she shouldn't go to the wedding. With a sigh Paris stood up and went to write the letter to Christine and prayed that the singer would be able to help them out.

It wasn't long before Paris received a reply from her friend. Christine and Raoul had decided that the best way for the Desslars to come to the wedding was to hide them in the back of the chapel. When Paris told Erik the news he had still been reluctant to go but had agreed in the end. That had earned him a huge hug and a kiss as well as a large chocolate cake. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad, he thought as he took a large bite of the cake with a smile.

Paris spent all her free time working on her wedding gift for Christine and Raoul. She was making them a beautiful quilt for their bed. She knew it wasn't as wonderful a gift as the one that they had given her and Erik but it was the best she could do. Erik composed a beautiful piece for Christine and had then teased Paris into composing something for Raoul. It was a silly piece since Paris didn't want it to look like she was showing romantic interest towards the groom. Erik had also purchased a beautiful gray Arabian stallion to give to Raoul. Paris had pouted saying that Erik never gave her anything that beautiful. Erik had just looked at her and grinned seductively before dragging her upstairs to shower her in beauty his way.

Paris knew despite Erik's calm appearance he was still very worried about the trip back to Paris and to the de Chagny estate. They would have to travel by carriage and even then it would have to be rented so as not attract too much attention. They would have to sneak into the chapel shortly before the actual wedding ceremony so that none of the other guests would see them. Christine had written in her letter that Raoul would make sure the chapel doors were unlocked so that Erik and Paris could get inside.

With a sigh Paris finished the quilt block she was working one and set it aside. The wedding date was approaching quickly and she still needed to tell the parents of her students that she would be gone for a week. Glancing at the clock Paris decided it was time to get dinner started. Erik would be home soon and he would be hungry. So Paris put her sewing aside, stretched the kinks out of her back and headed for the kitchen. Weddings were a lot of work, she decided, even when they weren't your own.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

A/N: Okay, in case anyone is interested, there was a chapter before this that was another explicit Lemon and is on my website. But otherwise, I only own Paris, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Eighteen

"Are you going to be warm enough?"

"I should be. You bought me this cloak and you always buy me the best. So this cloak should be more than warm enough," Paris smiled as Erik helped her into the rented carriage that Raoul had sent.

"I'm just making sure. It's been very cold in Paris this year and I don't want you getting sick," Erik frowned.

"With you around I doubt a cold will even think about coming at me. That scowl you're wearing is enough to scare any illness away," Paris grinned as she tickled Erik's chin.

Erik just grinned and pulled Paris into the crook of his arm. They were on their way to the de Chagny wedding and Erik still felt wary about going even though they would be hidden most of the time from the rest of the guests. Erik sighed and glanced out the window of the carriage as it carried them out of the village that had become home to him and Paris. He was rather surprised that he had come to think of the village as home since he had only lived their for about six months and he had lived in Paris for so many years he couldn't even remember how many. Glancing down at Paris as she shifted against him he smiled. He had a feeling she was the reason for the village feeling like home.

"You okay?" Paris asked softly looking up at Erik.

"Never better, love. Just thinking," Erik smiled and kissed her nose. Paris giggled and reached up to pull him down for a longer kiss. "Keep kissing me like that and I'll have to tell this carriage to stop and drag you off into the woods which will make us late."

"I don't mind," Paris whispered against his lips before he claimed hers again.

"Hmm, I just bet you don't," Erik chuckled softly.

Paris pulled Erik down over her in the small carriage as she kissed him heatedly. Erik grinned against her lips as he tried to adjust his position on the thin seat. Paris ran her hands through his long hair pulling the ribbon out. Erik held Paris' head between his hands gently as he slanted his mouth over hers. He was vaguely aware that the driver could probably hear them but he pushed that thought aside as he felt Paris' fingers working at his cravat. Erik had a feeling that things would have gone much farther if the carriage hadn't suddenly hit a hole in the road causing them to fall onto the floor.

Erik chuckled as he climbed back up onto the seat and helped his laughing wife up as well. He retied his cravat and tied his hair back much to Paris' disappointment. He just grinned as Paris crossed her arms and pouted.

"It would not be good etiquette if we showed up looking like we had just wrestled in a tiny carriage. Christine would not be pleased and I'd hate to think what the Vicomte would think."

"You always ruin my fun."

"That's not what you said last week in the music room," Erik grinned with a wink.

"You only let me win that game of chess," Paris said her nose in the air.

Erik laughed and pulled Paris towards him for a kiss. Paris resisted at first but with Erik's insistent mouth nibbling on her jaw and ear her resistance fell away and she turned her head to capture his lips. This kiss was more tamed. Once Erik pulled away slowly he settled back with Paris resting against his side. The rest of the ride was made in comfortable silence.

"Paris, love, we're here," Erik whispered softly as he gently shook Paris awake.

"Mmm, just a few more minutes, please?"

"I'm sorry _chérie_, but we must get out. Christine is waiting to see you and we must pay the driver."

Paris sighed and sat up with a stretch before allowing Erik to help her out of the carriage. Looking up at the huge estate Paris felt her breath catch. It was white and at least three stories tall. It stretched over a few hundred yards over the lawn. Paris glanced back at Erik who was gathering up their luggage. She hoped she never lost him in the hallways for she knew if he wandered off without her she would never be able to find him again.

"Are you all right, darling?" Erik asked catching the worried look Paris was throwing at him.

"I want you to promise to never wander off without me. I'd never find you again!" Paris gasped as she gripped her husband's arm tightly.

"You'll never be out of my sight," Erik reassured her.

Paris breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against Erik. Just then the front door opened and Christine stepped out with a broad grin on her pretty face. Paris needed no encouragement to run up the steps to greet her friend.

"Oh, Paris it's so good to see you! It's been so long. You must visit more often from now on. You look well, have you been well?" Christine exclaimed excitedly.

"I have been just marvelous. Oh, Christine I have so much to tell you."

Christine's smile faded just a tad as she shot a glance over towards Erik. "We'll have to talk before any of the other guests arrive. They're due to start arriving tomorrow and we must hide you and Erik from them."

"We understand, Mademoiselle Daaé," Erik stated, his expression serious.

With a nod from Christine she turned and hurried them inside the house. Raoul came from one of the side rooms to greet them. He cast a wary glance over at Erik but he stuck his hand to shake Erik's nonetheless.

"Welcome to my home. I hope you will find your stay comfortable despite the unusual circumstances," Raoul stated kissing Paris' hand.

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Monsieur de Chagny. My wife and I will stay out of the way of the other guests. After all, our lives are important to us as much as your reputations are. We will not jeopardize either." Erik's answer was strict and almost a sneer. Paris glanced at her husband with a confused frown.

Raoul however did not seem to catch the hostile tone in Erik's voice. Instead he smiled and gave a nod. "That's good to hear. Now, Christine and I shall show you to your room. We are placing you in the west wing while the rest of the guests will be in the east wing. One of my most trusted servants will attend to you when neither Christine nor I can."

"That will be fine," Paris smiled.

Raoul slipped Christine's arm through his and turned to lead the Desslars to their room. Paris slipped her arm through Erik's and smiled up at him. He glanced down at her and winked. The room Raoul led them to was near the far end of the wing, far away from the main part of the house, Erik noted. However, after glancing down at the woman clinging to his arm he understood the need for space like this.

"Well, here we are. This is your room. We'll leave you to get settled and we'll send someone to get you for dinner at six. After that, I'm sure, Madame Desslar, Christine would enjoy your company so that you two can catch up," Raoul said.

Paris nodded and smiled at Christine. Then with a polite nod, Raoul led Christine out of the room and left Paris and Erik alone. Paris waited for the door to close before she turned to face her husband with her hands upon her slender hips and a frown upon her face.

"What was that about earlier? You practically bit Raoul's head off."

"I am sorry but Monsieur de Chagny pretty much said that we are in inconvenience to him. I can understand him saying such a thing to me alone but you are Christine's friend and I highly doubt Christine would be too pleased with him if he continued to be so cold towards you," Erik explained. He turned towards where one of the servants had placed his and Paris' luggage.

"Christine would be upset with Raoul if he was mean to you too. He knows you love me and not Christine anymore. I don't know why Raoul would be so mean to you after how nice he was at our wedding. I thought you two had gotten along well that day," Paris frowned in confusion as she watched her husband unpacking.

"We were never close friends, Paris. We could barely stand each other since we were both vying for Christine's affections. I'm sure he still resents me for everything I've done with Christine and is worried I'll try something to her. After all, I am the spurned lover," Erik sneered as he shot a glare over at Paris.

Paris was silent for a moment before she straightened her back, through back her shoulders and held her head high. "I refuse to get jealous, Monsieur Desslar. I don't care what you say, you love me and Raoul will just have to accept that. If he still can't get over the past then that's his problem but goading him on with your anger and veiled threats will not do any good."

Erik looked silently at his wife and felt his heart constrict when he saw the tears in her eyes. He had hurt her with his words. He had practically said he planned on going after Christine just to show Raoul that Erik was not going to stand by and let the Vicomte throw jibes at him and get away with it. Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry Paris. Being back here in Paris has brought my old defenses back up. I have no intentions of messing with the Vicomte's head where Christine is concerned. You are the only woman who will ever turn my head and de Chagny will just have to see that for himself."

Paris looked at her husband for moment before nodding silently. Taking a calming breath she walked over and began to unpack her bags. She was tired and dirty from the ride to the estate so her nerves were raw and she knew Erik's were too. Once everything was unpacked and put away Erik rang the bell for a servant. A few minutes later a timid knock sounded at the door. Erik retreated to the shadows by the bed while Paris opened the door.

"You rang, Miss?" the young maid asked.

"Yes, um, would you be so kind as to draw a bath for me?" Paris asked.

"Of course, Miss. Right away, Miss," the girl curtsied and hurried to follow her orders.

A short while later a tub was filled with hot water and the maid left after Paris shooed her away. Stepping behind the changing screen Paris stripped out of her dusty clothes and pulled a dressing robe around her shoulders. She stepped out from behind the screen and padded over towards the large tub. After testing the water she dropped her robe and gingerly stepped into the tub. She breathed a sigh of contentment as she sank into the hot water.

"Scoot forward," Erik's voice commanded from behind her. Paris grinned and did as she was told. A few seconds later the water rose around her even more as her husband joined her in the tub. She watched with amusement as his legs slid around her and she was caught between his thighs. She leaned back against Erik's hard chest with a sigh. They sat that way for a few minutes before Erik shifted and began to wash them.

"As much as I'd love to just sit here in the bath with you, love, we have to be ready for dinner by six and it's already after five," Erik chuckled when Paris made a noise of protest at having to wash up and get out of the tub. Erik made such a nice back rest.

"Fine, but I get to wash your feet."

Erik barked with laughter at his wife's comment. He still couldn't figure out her strange obsession with his feet. No matter how many times she explained it to him he was still lost so he had given up asking and just went along with it.

Once they were clean Erik helped Paris out of the tub and dried her off with a large fluffy towel before he dried himself off. Paris turned to make her way over to the wardrobe but slipped upon a puddle of water. Erik moved to catch her but just as she hit his chest his foot slipped out from under him on the same puddle and they went crashing painfully to the floor. Erik was thankful that he was on the bottom for if he hadn't been he had a feeling he would have crushed Paris with his weight. Paris suddenly began shaking.

"Paris, love, are you all right?" Erik asked frantically. He tried to shift so that he could see her but a sharp pain traveled up his back where he had landed on it.

"I'm fine. That must have been so funny to see," Paris gasped around her laughter. Erik breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that she was fine. A few seconds later he joined her laughter as he pictured what they must have looked like in his mind.

Once they calmed down they carefully stood up and examined themselves for any serious injuries. Seeing none they got dressed quickly and cleaned up the mess they had made with the bath water. Next time they would lay a towel next to the tub to absorb any spills. At a quarter to six a knock sounded at the door. Paris answered it again and saw that it was servant who had brought their luggage to their room.

"I am here to show you and Monsieur Desslar to the dining hall."

"Oh, yes of course. Erik, dinner's ready," Paris said turning towards her husband who was combing his hair back. Erik just nodded to indicate that he had heard. "Lead the way, sir."

The servant, a middle aged man with light brown hair and light blue eyes turned and began walking down the hallway. Paris hurried after him followed closely by Erik who tried to remain in the shadows. They were led into a large room with a rather long table. Raoul and Christine were already seated when Erik and Paris entered. They stood up for their guests upon seeing them.

"You look much better, Paris. Much more refreshed. Is the room to your liking?" Christine asked as soon as Paris was helped into her seat by Erik who sat down next to his wife with a slight wince of pain.

Paris cast an amused glance at Erik before answering. "Yes, the room is just fine and I feel relatively better. I don't know if I can say the same for my husband though."

"Oh, is something wrong, Erik?"

"No, everything is fine. Just some slight bruising."

"Bruises? Was the trip down so bumpy?" Christine asked her eyes wide with worry.

"Oh the trip was fine Christine; it was the bath that was a bit painful," Paris answered with a grin.

"Why would the bath be painful?" Christine frowned.

"Let's stop this conversation where it is. I don't like where it's going," Raoul broke in with a sip of his wine.

"We slipped on some spilled water by the tub. Erik took the brunt of the fall when he caught me, that's all. Now we can change the subject."

"Thank you."

Christine was silent for a moment as Paris' comment sunk in then she covered her mouth with her hand and laughed as silently as she could. Raoul cast a reproachful look at his fiancée before turning an accusing look at Paris.

"Now look what you've done, she'll be laughing about that all through dinner," Raoul sighed with annoyance.

"Well at least your dinners won't be dull, de Chagny, will they?" Erik asked with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips. Raoul just sighed and gulped down the rest of his wine. This was going to be a long night, he could just tell.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Nineteen

Christine and Raoul led Paris and Erik into the parlor after dinner. Raoul offered Erik a brandy which he accepted while Christine and Paris settled down upon one of the couches. As soon as everyone was settled Christine turned to Paris with a smile.

"Okay, now that we're all much more comfortable tell me all that has been going on since the wedding."

"Well, this may take a while," Paris started casting an amused glance with Erik who just smiled and raised his glass towards her.

"Oh, we don't mind, do we Raoul? See, Raoul doesn't mind so go ahead," Christine smiled cutting anything Raoul may have been about to say. Raoul shut his mouth and just stared down into his brandy. Erik hid a smile behind a sip of his brandy.

"Well alright. After the wedding Erik and I pretty much stayed in the house for our honeymoon. Later, Erik mentioned that he should sell some of his compositions so that he would be earning some money. I decided that maybe I should get a job in the village as well. So Erik has been selling some of his compositions through a publishers company here in Paris only they don't know it's him since no one but us and a couple of others know Erik's real name. He's only known as the Phantom or the Opera Ghost so he's been very successful with his music. Also, the villagers have been very nice to us. They've pretty much accepted Erik. We know that they're still a bit wary about his face but he's told so many of the villagers that his face was disfigured in a fire when he was little that they have accepted that he doesn't want to remove his mask in public.

"Because of this acceptance Erik has been able to get a job in the village as well. He's been hired to design the new church. So he's been getting dirty every day working with the men on the construction of the new church. Apparently that's helped him earn the respect of many of the village men. I think a lot of them thought that Erik was cold and distant because he was from Paris and believed himself to be better than them. Working right along side the men has shown them that Erik is just like them and isn't afraid to get dirty."

"Aren't you worried that someone may take advantage of you letting your guard down, Erik? After all, if the men feel that you're comfortable around them they'll believe that you should be comfortable enough to remove your mask in their presence," Christine spoke up turning her big blue eyes towards the man leaning against the mantle silently.

"My guard is never down except when I'm around Paris. I have learned to always be careful. So do not worry about my well being," Erik answered with a sip of brandy. His gold swirled grey blue eyes met and caught Paris' and they warmed with emotion for her. Paris smiled and ducked her head.

"Oh, well then, what else has been going on?" Christine turned back to Paris.

"Well, while Erik has been working on the church I've been doing my own work. You are looking at Caine Village's church organist. I've been playing the church organ every Sunday for Mass. And every day during the week I teach some of the village children piano. It's so much fun and heartwarming to see these children play. Some of them are very talented. One in particular is Patrick Mason. He's the butcher's son but he has so much talent. I think if he wanted to he could become a famous musician. He even brought a piece that he had composed himself. It's no Beethoven or even Erik but it was still very good for a nine year old boy.

"Every time I look at these children I see our future. I like knowing that I'm helping them to make the music world a better one. I just hope they will continue to do so on their own when I'm old and grey and can no longer lift my fingers to play the piano," Paris spoke with a soft smile as she stared into the fire.

The room was silent for a short while with only the wind blowing outside and the gentle crackling of the fire. It was Raoul that finally broke the silence.

"I'm pleased to hear that both of you have been doing so well. I'm sure the children will continue playing long after you are no longer able to, Paris. And congratulations, Erik, on your job. I hope you receive further commissions in the future. Christine told me you are a very skilled architect and that you worked on the Opera House while it was being built. I guess that's how you knew the passageways so well, huh?"

"Indeed and _mercí_."

"Oh this is so wonderful! I can't believe how happy everyone is. I'm so happy for you both! Now tell me, is there anything else going on? Anything in the near future maybe?" Christine's smile was suggestive and hopeful as she looked from Paris to Erik and then back to Paris.

Paris frowned in thought before shaking her head. "No, nothing that I know of. Erik?"

"I don't think so, love."

"Oh, well maybe later. You're both still young," Christine pouted even as Erik and Paris glanced at each other questioningly and Raoul shook his head with dismay at his fiancée. Sometimes she was just too tactful for her own good even when she was being evasive. Although he was rather surprised that neither Erik nor Paris had gotten Christine's hint.

"So de Chagny what time is this wedding?" Erik asked draining the rest of his brandy.

"Hopefully, if everything goes right, it should be at three in the afternoon on the 15th. I will have Thomas, the man who brought you to the dining hall, bring you to the chapel fifteen minutes before anyone else enters. That should give you both plenty of time to get up into the loft at the back of the chapel without anyone seeing you," Raoul explained draining his brandy as well.

"Oh, I wish you could be in our wedding. I would love for you to be right up there with me, Paris. You have been with me through thick and thin and now you have to stand in the back in the shadows hiding like a thief," Christine pouted as she clasped Paris' hands in her own.

"Sometimes the shadows are the best place to be. You know we're there but no one else does. It's like a secret that only we are privy to," Paris reassured.

Christine smiled and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. The rest of the evening was spent talking about future plans and other news that had been going on in Paris that Erik and Paris hadn't heard about.

"The Opera Managers have been trying to find a new Prima Donna since Carlotta has left. No one knows why she left but Meg Giry told me that she left because she received a letter from the Opera Ghost telling her to leave or die. Meg couldn't understand why I laughed when she told me that. I don't think she's completely convinced that you're no longer part of the Opera House," Christine laughed looking at Erik as she told him and Paris what had been going on with the Opera House.

"It sounds like the managers took my threat to heart," Erik smiled softly as he looked at his wife.

"What threat?" Christine sobered up immediately.

"Nothing serious Christine. Erik just told the managers that every time something bad happened that they should blame it on the Phantom since he was leaving a little bit of himself in the Opera House after he was gone. It was quite funny to watch their facial expressions when they found the letter on their desk weeks after the search," Paris reassured.

"I wonder if the police are still looking for us," Erik wondered.

"Probably not but I'm sure if you show your face they'll arrest you if they catch you," Raoul said.

Erik just nodded and stared into the fire silently. It was getting late and they all knew it. So Paris yawned and rose to her feet with a stretch.

"I'm going to head to bed. I believe Erik and I will be doing a lot of hiding and seeking throughout our stay."

"Yes, it may have been smarter to have had you two come the day before the wedding so that you wouldn't have to hide for so long. I was just so excited about seeing you both again that I never stopped to think what the consequences would be," Christine admitted apologetically.

"Don't worry about it, Christine. Everything will be fine. Erik and I can fend for ourselves."

Christine looked at her friend and nodded. Then the group said good night and every one headed off in the directions of their rooms. Paris was glad that Erik had such a good memory for he knew exactly where to go to get back to their room. She knew she would have been lost for hours if she had had to find the room on her own.

"Do you still think Raoul's after your head?" Paris asked with a smile as she climbed into bed.

"I honestly don't know now. I don't think so or if he does, it's not as badly as it was when we first arrived. However, my guard will still remain up while I'm here. He probably won't do anything since he hasn't done anything in the months since our marriage but…" Erik ended with a shrug of indecision.

"I highly doubt he'd do anything to upset Christine so I think we'll be safe. I think you and Raoul could become friends if you both really tried."

"Hmm. What do you think about what's been happening at the Opera House?"

Paris knew Erik was changing the subject on purpose but said nothing about it. "I think it's rather funny. You've been gone for nearly six months and now Carlotta leaves because of some letter supposedly by you. If none of your letters could get rid of her in the past I don't see why one now would. Unless there was something very serious in the letter, if there even was one, that stated what would happen to her then I don't see why she would leave."

"Yes, I agree with you there. However, I was speaking more along the lines of the Opera House needing a new singer," Erik said as he climbed into bed beside Paris.

"I'm not going to audition if that's what you're suggesting. I'm perfectly happy living in Caine village with you and teaching children to play the piano."

"That wasn't what I was suggesting. I wasn't suggesting anything at all. I was just curious to hear your opinion on the matter," Erik defended.

"I think it's great that they need a new leading lady. Anyone the managers find will have to be better than Carlotta. If Christine wasn't marrying Raoul and becoming one of the upperclassmen I think she would be the best choice," Paris stated rolling over so that she fit alongside Erik who wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"Maybe Raoul will be lenient and will allow Christine to sing anyway. I hear being a famous performer is very good no matter which level of the classes you are."

"Well, I don't think Raoul will be lenient in that regard. He may love Christine to death but letting her sing upon the stage like some street girl when she's actually a Vicomtess is not something I can see him doing. He's always been one to follow the rules of society and it was only during his attempted courtship of Christine did he step out of the lines. Now that he's back in the lines I think he will do everything in his power to keep himself in them even if it means having to keep Christine off the stage. He'll probably let her sing around the house though, he did enjoy her singing if I recall."

"If I was him I would never forbid the woman I love from doing whatever it is she loves. If she wants to sing on stage then I'd let her do it just as long as she loved only me," Erik stated as he held Paris tightly against him.

"Well, I don't think you'll have to worry too much about that. I'll love you until the day I die and then some. When we get back home I'm going to sing just for you. It's been so long since I've sung. Playing a mute was no fun when ever I wanted to just start singing. You have no idea how hard it was to remain quiet during Christine's voice lessons. I just wanted to stand up and start singing along with you both," Paris said as she snuggled closer to Erik, her cheek resting in the hollow of this neck and shoulder.

"I can just imagine the difficulty," Erik said softly. "And I look forward to you singing just for me. You don't do it enough at home and that beautiful note you held out during my Opera was one of the most hauntingly beautiful sounds I had ever heard and I look forward to hearing more just like it."

"I love you Erik," Paris whispered as she drifted off to sleep.

"And I love you, Paris. More than you can ever imagine."


	20. Chapter Twenty

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris, the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber.

**

Chapter Twenty

**

The morning of December 15th dawned bright and early. The weather was clear and cold but there was no sign of snow. All of the guests had arrived on time and were now hurrying in their rooms trying to get ready. Raoul's older brother Philippe was there seeing that everything went as planned while Raoul was being dressed and prepared for the wedding. Philippe had not been too keen on Raoul's marriage to Christine but once he had met the sweet Swedish singer he had consented to the marriage. Philippe knew nothing about the infamous Phantom and his bride staying in the de Chagny estate so Paris and Erik had had to make extra sure that they weren't discovered.

As Raoul had promised Thomas arrived at Erik and Paris' room before the designated time for the other guests to start going to the chapel. Thomas hurried the Desslars to the chapel and then left them to return to his post. Erik opened the doors and ushered Paris inside. They found their way up to the loft at the back of the chapel. Two chairs had been placed up there in case they wished to sit down. Erik said it would be best if they stood in the shadows for the ceremony but if Paris became tired she was free to sit.

Paris and Erik stood in the shadows while the guests began to enter. Paris gasped when she saw Madame and Meg Giry. Tears filled her eyes when she saw her friend and former instructor. Erik gave a small smile when he saw them as well. Madame Giry had always been a good friend and ally to him. They didn't see many other guests that they recognized but as Erik whispered to Paris that was to be expected. They didn't hob nob with the upperclassmen like Raoul did therefore Paris and Erik wouldn't know anyone. However, the same was not to be said about the guests not knowing the Desslars. After all, Erik's face had been seen that night his Opera was performed and Paris had caused quite a stir with her voice that night as well. While Paris may be easier to forget if she didn't speak Erik would not be. Paris had turned and given Erik a hug and a hard kiss after that statement. Erik was thankful they had both dressed in dark colors for the wedding otherwise he had a feeling they would have been spotted for they had moved a bit forward into the light when they had kissed.

By the time the wedding march for Christine's entrance began Erik was ready for the wedding to be over. He was ready to go home and be alone with his wife; however, he knew they wouldn't be able to leave until the guests had all departed the estate. With a sigh Erik pulled Paris back against him as they peered out into the chapel to watch as Raoul and Christine said their vows. He was reminded of his own wedding and he smiled. Christine may be a beautiful bride but Paris would still be far more beautiful to Erik's eyes. As if she knew what he was thinking Paris turned her head to look up at him and smiled.

Erik lowered his head so that his mouth was beside her ear and as Raoul spoke his vows to Christine Erik spoke them as well to his own bride. Paris shivered as Erik's hot breath hit her ear and her heart constricted when she listened to him repeat the vows right along with Raoul. Paris then turned and did the same to Erik when Christine spoke her vows. When the rings were presented Erik raised Paris' hand and kissed her ring. Paris followed his example.

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest called out from below signaling the end of the ceremony.

Two husbands claimed the lips of their wives at the same moment while the guests cheered accordingly. The two wives opened their eyes and stared up at their husbands with tears of happiness trickling down their cheeks. The de Chagnys hurried down the isle to finalize the wedding while the guests began to exit the chapel in order to give their congratulations to the bride and groom. Paris and Erik held back. They knew they couldn't leave the chapel until the coast was clear and with as many guests as there were, that could be a while.

Erik pulled the chairs back into the shadows and he and Paris sat down to wait. Paris didn't know why but she suddenly felt very tired. She hadn't felt that well that morning but had believed it to be nerves. After all, one of her dearest friends was getting married that day. However, now she wondered if maybe something was wrong. Maybe she had caught a cold. Glancing at Erik she decided not to say anything in case she was wrong. When Paris got sick Erik become a mother hen with one chick. He refused to leave her alone and it was only until she growled at him to get out or she'd skin him alive the minute she got out of the bed did Erik actually leave her be for a while.

"It was a beautiful wedding," Paris said softly.

"Yes it was. However, I don't think Christine was as beautiful a bride as you were, my dear," Erik smiled.

Paris blushed and looked down at her hands. "You're just saying that because I'm your wife and I'd hit you senseless if you said otherwise."

Erik grinned and pulled Paris toward him until she was sitting in his lap. "I think I'm already senseless otherwise I wouldn't be risking our lives this way."

When Paris opened her mouth to ask him what he meant Erik wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her towards his face. He captured her lips in a heated kiss, his tongue sliding into her hot mouth to tangle with her tongue. Paris moaned silently as she shifted herself so that she was straddling Erik in the chair. It wasn't as easy as she thought it would be what with her full skirt in the way but she managed to do it. Erik slanted his mouth over her mouth to deepen the kiss. God, she was a drug!

They didn't know how long they were in the chapel in that position but it had to have been long enough for the guests to go back inside the estate. Thomas entered the chapel and called out to them from below. Paris pulled her mouth away from her husband's with a gasp at the sound of Thomas' voice. She scrambled off of Erik's lab and hurried to straighten her clothes.

"We're coming, Thomas," Erik called down as he quickly tied his hair back again and straightened his jacket.

"Yes, Monsieur Desslar."

Once the Desslar's were presentable again they linked arms and headed downstairs where Thomas waited patiently. Thomas then led them back to the estate and safely through the back entrance so that they would not be seen by any of the guests. Paris wished she could see Madame and Meg Giry before they had to leave but Paris had a feeling that that wouldn't be possible.

However, the minute they were safely in their room all thoughts of the Girys left Paris' mind for Erik pulled her up against his hard body, his lips claiming hers in a rough kiss. Paris moaned as Erik's tongue swept across her lips. Erik pulled away slowly and stared down into Paris' eyes. Smiling he stepped back to allow her to go get ready for bed. A tray of food had been placed in the room while the wedding ceremony had been going on so that Erik and Paris wouldn't have to go out to get food while the guests were around. Erik walked over and lifted the lid off of one of the trays and began to fill two plates full of food for himself and Paris.

He sat down in front of the fire and waited for Paris to come out from behind the changing screen. Once she had she padded over to him and sat down in the chair across from his and began to eat. Erik stood up and went to change as well.

They would be leaving in a couple of days and Erik had a feeling that even though Paris would be sad to leave Christine she was as ready as he was to return home. With a sigh he pulled his robe around his body and stepped out from behind the screen to join Paris by the fire.

"I don't know about you but I'm ready to go home. I don't like having to hide like a criminal," Paris sighed as she stared into the fire.

"Yes, even I'm getting tired of it. I've never been confined like this for this long and it's making me claustrophobic and restless. At least they haven't forgotten about us," Erik gave a small grin at his last comment before taking a bit of cheese.

Paris nodded and bit into a piece of bread. They sat eating in silence for a few minutes before a soft knock on their door sounded. Erik sat up straight, his posture tense. Paris glanced at him while he rose and silently made his way over to the door.

"Paris? Erik, are you in there?" Christine's voice called from the other side of the door.

Erik opened the door and peered down at the new bride. She smiled shyly up at him and stepped into the room after Erik stepped back.

"I just wanted to make sure you two were doing all right. Did you make it to the wedding?"

"Yes, it was a beautiful ceremony. You looked so beautiful, Christine," Paris breathed as she gave her friend a hug.

"And we're doing just fine. We haven't been forgotten in all the excitement," Erik said, his voice laced with amusement.

Christine giggled and looked at them for a moment as if to make sure they were being honest with her. "I'm glad to hear that. Raoul wanted to thank you for the gifts. He thought the horse was one of the best animals he had ever seen and everyone just about died laughing at your song for him, Paris. There was a young lady there who knew how to play the piano and she sang the piece since you couldn't be with us for obvious reasons. I told everyone that you were old friends but that you couldn't make it to the wedding because of distance but that you sent your gifts and regards. They bought the lie thankfully. Thank you for the quilt Paris, it's beautiful and so was your song for me, Erik. I don't know how I can ever thank you both for everything you have ever done for me and Raoul but don't ever hesitate to ask either of us for anything."

"We'll hold you to that promise, Christine. And you're welcome for everything," Paris said softly, tears in her eyes as she hugged her friend again. Erik just nodded in agreement.

"Well, I better get back. I told everyone that I had to go check on something and that I wouldn't be long. Raoul and I will see you off when you leave so don't jump into the carriage without saying good bye first."

"We'll wait. Paris would have my head if I dragged her home without letting her say good bye to you. I'm sure Raoul will be pleased as punch to see me gone as soon as possible," Erik smiled as he kissed Christine's hand.

Christine just laughed then turned and left the room. Erik looked at Paris for a moment before gathering her into his arms for a long comforting hug. It would probably be a while before Paris saw Christine again and saying good bye would be painful to both women. However, Erik knew that they were both strong and that they would keep in touch. If he knew Paris, she would walk in below freezing temperature just to get to where ever Christine was if the young Vicomtess ever needed Paris' assistance. After clearing away their dishes Erik banked the fire and then climbed into bed with his wife at his side. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and they would need their strength just to get through it.

A/N: For anyone who has tried to go to my website in order to read the Lemons and had trouble, the link has been fixed! Celticreeder.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris and Dr. Murphy. The rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Twenty One

"Promise you'll write and visit more often?" Christine asked as she hugged Paris outside by the rented carriage.

"I promise. I'll definitely write but the visiting may not be as easy. We still need to keep a low profile for a while," Paris answered with tears in her eyes.

"I understand. Raoul is taking me back to Sweden for our honeymoon. I'll write when we get back and tell you all the details, well the details that are deemed tellable," Christine grinned as a blush colored her cheeks when she glanced shyly over at her husband.

"Of course," Paris laughed.

After one more hug between the two girls, a kiss on the hands of the women by the men and a handshake between Erik and Raoul, Paris was helped into the carriage followed by Erik and with a wave they set off on their way home. Paris placed a hand upon her stomach as soon as the carriage pulled out into the main road. Erik eyed her with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I don't think my eggs are agreeing with me this morning. Give me a few minutes and I believe I'll be fine," Paris smiled weakly as she felt her stomach lurch slightly after the carriage hit a bump.

Erik eyed Paris for a few moments longer before nodding and looking out the window. He hoped she hadn't caught something while at the de Chagnys. He had noticed that she had seemed rather tired during their stay. She had been restless as well. However, he didn't think she would be sick if she was both restless and tired at the same time. Frowning, Erik decided to send Paris to the doctor if she wasn't feeling better upon their return home. He didn't want to ignore the situation and then find out later that it was something serious.

"Stop worrying about it Erik, I'm fine. If I'm still not feeling well tomorrow I'll see the doctor. I may have just caught a cold," Paris reassured her husband when she saw that he was still brooding about her upset stomach.

"I pray that that is all it is if you do have something. I can help you get rid of that if it is all you have," Erik said looking over at Paris. Paris smiled and slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers tightly together. Erik knew a great deal about medicine and Paris trusted him to know what to do whenever she got sick, even if he was a mother hen with one chick about it the whole time.

"I can't wait to see all my students again. I hope they've been practicing while I've been gone."

"With you for a teacher I'm sure they practiced so much that their fingers are now curved permanently and are playing the notes in the air on their own," Erik chuckled.

"Well, then they'll know their pieces really well won't they?" Paris grinned up at Erik.

"I daresay they will and they'll be ready for new pieces to play. I'm sure they're parents will be too."

"Yes, I'm sure they will be. After all, one can only stand to listen to one song being played over and over again for so long, especially when the pianist doesn't know the song completely yet and so he pounds the same notes over and over again," Paris said with a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

"I take it you don't approve of my composing?" Erik demanded, a glimmer in his eyes as well making the gold swirls glow.

"Maybe, compose when we get home and find out," Paris grinned.

"Maybe I will."

Paris laughed and hugged Erik's arm tightly before leaning up to kiss the lower part of his chin that was left bare by the mask. Erik turned his head and captured her lips before she could retreat back to her seat. Paris smiled as his lips pressed firmer against hers before he lifted his head and gave a satisfied smirk at her dreamy expression. He then settled back and looked out the window while Paris succumbed to the sleep that had been pulling at her for a while.

They arrived at their home late in the afternoon. Paris stumbled out of the carriage with help from a concerned Erik. After he had paid the driver, Erik gathered his and Paris' luggage and followed his wife towards the front door. There were times when he wished that their door was not quite so deep in the woods now that he was pretty much accepted by the villagers and distance was not needed as much anymore. However, as he glanced at Paris he had to smile when he realized all the good things about having their house secluded like it was.

Paris unlocked the front door and stepped inside with a deep breath. Stepping aside so that Erik could enter with the luggage she smiled happily.

"We're home, Erik! Doesn't if feel great?"

Erik straightened up from setting the luggage down and looked around before smiling softly. "Yes, it does. However, I don't think it would feel quite like home if you weren't here with me."

Paris smiled back at Erik before grabbing her bags and heading up the stairs. Erik picked up his bags as well and followed close behind. Once all their clothes were put away Paris went into the bathroom and started a bath. She was dirty from the journey and in desperate need of a bath and a change of clothes. She wondered if Erik would join her again but after she stepped out from behind the changing screen she saw that he wouldn't be. He had already changed his clothes and was now washing his face from the wash basin on the dresser.

"I'll go get dinner started while you bathe. When you're done we'll eat," Erik stated as he dried his face and tied his hair back again. Paris nodded and smiled when Erik left the room without his mask on. He was doing that more and more often whenever he was home with just her. With that thought she turned and entered the bathroom to bathe.

Once Paris was dressed she made her way downstairs. Erik had dinner all prepared and set upon the table waiting for her. Erik turned from the sink where he had been washing some of the used dishes and smiled at her when she entered the kitchen.

"Dinner's on the table, I'll be there in just a minute," he said.

"Don't hurry on my account," Paris said with a smile as she sat down.

Erik just chuckled and finished what he was doing. Then he dried his hands, rolled his sleeves back down and joined her at the table to eat. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Paris spoke.

"When will you go back to work on the church?"

"Tomorrow, they're expecting me to be back then," Erik answered.

"I'll probably go to all my students to let them know that we'll begin lessons next Monday. I'll also need to let Father Michaels know that I'm back. He was rather upset that I wasn't able to play the organ on that Sunday we were gone but he understood that I wished to go to Christine's wedding."

"Father Michaels has always been very understanding," Erik commented.

"Yes, that's one of the things I like about him," Paris smiled. Erik nodded and drained the rest of his wine. He then stood up and began to clear the table. Paris sighed and just sat there for a moment before she too stood up and began to help clear the table.

"You know, even though it was nice having servants doing everything for us at the de Chagny estate, I don't think I would like having them there all the time. I like doing things on my own like this, keeps me busy," Paris commented as she placed a stack of plates next to the sink.

"Yes, when you're bored you make sure everyone knows," Erik chuckled as he filled the sink with water and began to wash the plates.

"I'm not that bad," Paris pouted as she grabbed a dish towel and began to dry the dishes that Erik handed her.

"Believe me, my dear, you are."

Paris just gave a sound of annoyance and said nothing more while she dried.

The next couple of days passed and Erik and Paris returned to their normal routines. However, every morning Paris would wake up feeling sick to her stomach and would some times have to grab the chamber pot next to the bed. Erik would awaken to the sounds of Paris retching into the pot and he became concerned. However, Paris would always be well by the time he left for the construction site and she was still fine when he returned home.

"Are you sure you're okay, Paris?" Erik asked on the morning of the fifth day of her morning sickness.

"Yes, I'm fine, Erik. If I'm still not well tomorrow morning then I'll go see the doctor," Paris insisted as she wiped her mouth with a wet cloth.

Erik was silent as he watched his wife throw up again. "Alright, but you had better keep your promise about this. It could be serious." Paris just nodded and leaned her head back against the wall with a sigh.

Erik left the house soon afterwards leaving Paris to her thoughts. She had a feeling she knew what was wrong with her but she didn't know what she would do if her suspicions were true. After cleaning her mess up, Paris dressed and headed downstairs. She had a piano lesson today and she needed to be ready for it. She couldn't let a little stomach problem keep her from her job.

Paris was surprised when she felt fine the next morning and Erik seemed pleased that she wasn't throwing up as well. However, Paris knew that the best thing to do would be to go visit the doctor any way. She had a feeling that the morning sickness wouldn't stay away for long and she needed to make sure that her suspicions were true.

So after Erik left and Paris had given her only piano lesson that day she left for Doctor Murphy's office. The office was a small building but it was cozy and all of Paris' fears disappeared. Doctor Murphy was a kind man in his mid-fifties with a warm smile and twinkling blue eyes hidden behind a pair of spectacles. Paris was ushered into his examining room and asked to sit upon the table.

"Now, Madame Desslar what seems to be the problem?"

"I've been sick in the mornings but it goes away by noon. I have a feeling I know what's wrong but I want a doctor's diagnosis first," Paris answered nervously as she toyed with her skirt.

"Well, let's see what we can find, shall we?" Doctor Murphy smiled warmly.

Paris lay down on the table and waited silently and nervously while the doctor examined her. She prayed that she was right but she wished she knew what Erik would say.

A short while later Doctor Murphy re-entered the room, a smile on his face. Paris looked at him hopefully. Doctor Murphy motioned for Paris to sit down on the chair next to the table before he spoke.

"Well, Madame Desslar, it seems you are pregnant. Congratulations," Doctor Murphy smiled.

Paris sat frozen for a long moment before a smile spread upon her face and tears of happiness filled her eyes. "Are…are you sure?" she breathed.

"Yep, you are a healthy mother-to-be," Doctor Murphy laughed.

"Oh, God, this is wonderful…I have to tell my husband!"

"Do you think he'll be pleased?"

"I…" Paris froze. "I don't know. We've never really discussed having children before. I'd like to think that Erik wants a child but with the life he's led I don't know if he'll feel comfortable having one."

"From what I've heard of Monsieur Desslar he seems to be very kind to the village children whenever he encounters them. I'm sure he'll be fine with having a child. Tell him the news and see what his reaction is, I'm sure it'll be one of excitement," Doctor Murphy reassured her.

Paris nodded and gathered her things together. Then she paid the doctor for his services and slowly made her way out of his office. She walked in a daze around the village before she found herself near the construction site for the new church. She stared at the building. It was coming along quite nicely. She knew that it would be finished in another year or so with as fast as it was going up. Looking around she spotted Erik up on one of the higher beams, balancing like an acrobat. She grinned when she saw him. She was reminded of all the times he had balanced on ropes in the Opera House whenever he was escaping to somewhere. Knowing she couldn't keep her news to herself for much longer she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted up towards her husband.

The sounds of construction filled the air and Paris didn't know if Erik would even be able to hear her over the din. However, a nearby worker saw her and after hearing her shout at Erik he turned and began to shout along with her. Soon a group of the workers were shouting up towards the man working up on one of the highest beams.

"Hey, Desslar, you're being called," one of the men a couple of beams below Erik's called up.

"What?" Erik frowned and looked down to where the man was pointing.

Shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, Erik looked down at the ground. He stood up and scanned the area for whoever was trying to get his attention. Then he saw her. Paris was waving frantically at him. Erik felt his heart constrict. From way up here he couldn't tell if she was happy or not but whatever it was that she had to say if had to be important if she was coming all the way to the site to tell him.

Erik quickly began making his way down to the ground. As soon as his feet hit the ground he began running towards his wife. She darted into the clearing and began running towards him as well, a big smile on her face. Erik felt his breathing lighten when he saw her smile for he knew nothing terrible had happened.

"Erik! Erik, I'm pregnant! We're going to have a baby!" Paris shouted as she ran. Erik stumbled at her announcement and then picked up his pace. He wasn't sure he had heard her correctly.

"What? What did you say?" he gasped once he reached her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm going to have a baby! You're going to be father!" Paris said again, tears of happiness in her eyes.

Erik stared at her, stunned before he gave a shout of joy and scooped Paris up into his arms and spun her around. They laughed while the construction workers cheered and clapped for the happy couple. Erik then pulled Paris against him and kissed her hard in front of everyone. Paris knew Erik was happy about the baby, her fears were unfounded.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris and the villagers of Caine. The rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Chapter Twenty Two

Christmas in Caine Village was a spectacular event. The villagers threw a large party at the Town Hall complete with a large tree and presents for everyone. The news of Paris' pregnancy was also a big event. Women came by the scores to congratulate the parents-to-be and gifts were given as well as helpful tips for during and after the pregnancy. Erik found himself surrounded by men giving their sympathies for him.

"You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, Desslar. You'll be running for cover three days out of the week and then trying to get her to stop crying the other four days."

Erik would glance at Paris, his eyes filled with worry after listening to the terrible stories the men told him about their wives' pregnancies. However, as soon as Paris looked at him and smiled he felt his fears dissolve and a rather silly grin spread across his face.

"I'm sure you are exaggerating, Messieurs, otherwise some of you would not have had more children," Erik pointed out calmly as he sipped his punch. Some of the men laughed sheepishly while others moaned in sympathy for Erik and others just laughed outright and nodded.

Christmas morning brought snow and silence for the Desslars. They sat in the parlor staring into the fire curled up together on the couch. Paris had never felt so peaceful and happy. Looking up at Erik she smiled and leaned her head against his arm. Erik tightened his hold on her and sighed.

"What do you want to have?" Paris asked softly.

"I'm hoping _I'm_ not having anything. You, on the other hand, I'm hoping will have a baby," Erik teased.

Paris laughed and shoved Erik lightly on the shoulder. "Silly, I meant do you want a son or a daughter?"

"Either will be fine. A son with your eyes and disposition or a daughter with your hair and laughter."

"Well this child had better have some of you in it or else I may wonder who its father is," Paris grinned.

Erik laughed and held Paris closer against him. "The child, whether it's a boy or girl, can have my musical genius."

"Well, it can't have your feet. I refuse to let you pass your feet down to your child. It can have your eyes though," Paris compromised.

"Don't you like my eyes?"

"I love your eyes but I adore your feet more."

"I'll never understand your fascination with my feet. If I wasn't as sure about your affections for me as a whole I would be pressed to believe that you only married me for my feet," Erik said with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

"Some things are best left unknown and my fascination with your feet is one of them. Just take my love and leave it at that. You don't want to find yourself getting jealous over your feet now do you?"

Erik barked with laughter until tears trickled down his cheeks at that comment. When he managed to calm down he took a deep breath and pulled Paris close to him for a kiss.

"I hope I never have a reason to become jealous of my own feet so don't give me any reasons," Erik whispered before he captured Paris' lips again in a heated kiss.

"I'll keep that in mind. Don't want you to get blind with jealousy and cut them off just to spite them and me," Paris said distractedly as Erik trailed kisses along her jaw.

"And that would be bad because?" Erik asked laughter in his voice.

"Well, for starters you wouldn't be able to walk," Paris answered. Erik laughed but was silenced with a kiss by an impatient Paris.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Erik hoped that the rest of Paris' pregnancy would be like this. Full of laughter and love but deep down he knew it wouldn't be. She would go through mood swings at the drop of a hat and Erik had a feeling he would be in the line of fire when that happened. He sent a silent prayer to God that that happened rarely.

* * *

New Years came and went and Paris found herself working on one of the upstairs bedrooms turning it into a nursery. Because she didn't know what she was having, she purchased baby furniture that could be used for either a boy or a girl. She bought a beautiful bassinette and baby toys. She worked on a new quilt for the baby and ran through a list of baby names in her head as she worked. She had told Erik to do the same and so between the two of them they worked to come up with the perfect name for their baby. 

Paris had been told by Doctor Murphy that the baby was due in August which meant that Paris would be pregnant during the summer. She was not pleased with that. However, at the moment she was still thin and so she didn't worry about that time just yet. She didn't say anything to Erik about that either for she knew if she did he would begin to panic. Erik was not taking the pregnancy situation as well as Paris had thought he would. She had a feeling the men in the village were to blame. If they hadn't told Erik all those stories about how their wives became real monsters when they were pregnant then Erik probably wouldn't be walking around the house on tip toe and looking at her as if he was expecting her to suddenly leap at him and bite his head off for no reason.

Paris shook her head and sighed when Erik hurried past the door to the parlor upon his return home from the church. This was just getting ridiculous. Putting her sewing away, Paris stood up and marched up the stairs. She found Erik in their bedroom buttoning up a clean shirt. The minute he saw her in the mirror he tensed and spun around.

"You are acting like I'm going to tie you to the bed and beat you, Erik! I don't think my mood swings will become a real problem until I begin to show and as of now I am only two months pregnant. You will wear yourself out with all this running around trying to stay out of my way if you keep this up. There are still seven months more of my pregnancy," Paris pointed out with her hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry, Paris. I've never been a father before and I'm certainly not an expert when it comes to pregnant women," Erik apologized.

"Well, listening to the men in the village is not the way to go about becoming one. Doctor Murphy says every pregnancy is different. I may not even have mood swings. However, with the way you keep acting around me, I will and lots of them."

Erik gave a sheepish smile and looked down at the floor. Then he raised his head and opened his arms out for Paris. She didn't hesitate before launching herself at him for a hug. Sometimes she wished she was still pretending to be mute and deaf. Things were much simpler when she was. Erik had never been afraid of anything when he believed she was deaf and mute. Now just the mention of a mood swing sent him running for cover. She wondered where her fearless Phantom had gone to for there were times when she really needed him.

"Hey, you okay?" Erik asked softly peering into her face.

"I was just thinking," Paris answered softly as she wiped her tears away.

"About what?"

"You. You've changed so much since I began speaking again. You used to be so fearless; you never seemed to really worry about anything. Now though, you seem to jump at the slightest thing. If I raise my voice for any reason you immediately run and hide. I'm not saying I don't like you this way but I just feel that you've lost some of that power that's always fascinated me. I remember you were always so mysterious and dark and I loved you for that. Now you're open and friendly with everyone and I feel as if I hardly know you anymore. I…I want my Phantom back," Paris broke down sobbing.

Erik looked down at his wife in shock. Was this one of her mood swings? Why did he have a feeling it was? Closing his eyes Erik pulled Paris against him and began to rock side to side. As he reflected over his actions in the past he began to see what she meant. He had changed. But he thought he had changed for the better. Maybe if it was someone else then it would be for the better but for Paris it was like Erik was trying to become someone he wasn't. He had always wanted to be accepted for himself and now that he was he was changing to keep it that way. Paris loved him no matter what he looked like and by changing his personality to please the villagers was like becoming a completely different person. He was not the man Paris had fallen in love with and had married. Maybe these mood swings were not as bad as he thought. If they caused Paris to speak her mind like this more often then maybe Erik would be more informed about her feelings.

Erik knew he needed to fix the mess he'd caused. He needed to sit down and go over all his memories so that he could see what he needed to do to get back to being the man that Paris wanted him to be. Pulling back to look down at her he smiled slightly.

"I'm sorry I haven't remained the man you fell in love with, Paris. I'll try to get him back for you but you must remember that you aren't the same woman I fell in love with either. You've changed just as much as I have, maybe even more so. After all, the woman I fell in love with was mute and deaf, at least that's what I believed when I fell in love with her," Erik informed her.

"I know. I was thinking that too but I can't change back as easily as you can. Unless you want me suddenly to stop talking and listening to you that may cause problems when I'm in the village. They all know that I can speak and hear. I know they don't know your past like I do but I would like you to be my Phantom at least here at home."

"I can do that, but don't start going mute and deaf on me. Unless of course you plan on using sign language to communicate with me," Erik smiled.

"Do you even still remember all that I taught you?" Paris sniffed with a laugh.

"Of course I do, I have a wonderful memory," Erik signed.

"So you do," Paris whispered.

"I love you," Erik signed a small smile on his lips.

"And I love you," Paris signed back with tears in her eyes.

With a sob Paris wrapped her arms tightly around Erik's neck and cried against his neck. Erik raised tear filled eyes to the ceiling and held his wife tightly. God, he hoped he could find the strength to help her face all of her fears in the future because this was too hard on his heart. With a deep breath Erik lowered his head and buried his face in Paris' hair and let the tears trickle silently down his cheeks while Paris continued to sob against his neck. Please, God, give me the strength for her, please.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris, Carrie and Mary; the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. I would also like to apologize for the sudden rush of chapters being uploaded in such a short amount of time. I've finished my Junior Year at college and when I go home I won't have internet access on my lap top, which is where all my stories are saved, so I can't update very easily. It's just a pain to have to save all my stories on disks and then switch them over to another computer. So, I just wanted to get this story finished so that there wouldn't be three months worth of no updates. I know how annoying that is. But I thank every one who as reviewed and who have put up with this swamp of updates. Celticreeder. 

Chapter Twenty Three

Paris carefully lowered herself down into the overstuffed chair that Erik had pulled over towards the piano. Mary and Carrie were there for their weekly lessons. Carrie sat at the piano playing one of Erik's compositions that her mother had purchased for her from Erik for Christmas. Mary sat on the couch a short distance away watching Paris with concerned filled eyes and listening to her sister play.

Paris was six months pregnant and was showing rather greatly. Erik had insisted that Paris not give lessons any more until after the baby was born but Paris had been just as insistent to keep teaching. So Erik had backed down with a warning that if she pushed herself too much he would tell all of her students that lessons would be cancelled until after the birth of the baby. Paris had taken one look into his eyes and knew he was not joking. So with a sigh she had agreed. Now she worked to keep herself relaxed. Her students seemed to have come to a silent understanding that they were not to over tax their teacher and so they practiced until they knew their pieces by heart so that when they came for lessons they did not make Paris angry. Her temper was short and she got angered quite easily nowadays and that was not something the students wished to see very often.

"Very good, Carrie. You play that very beautifully," Paris said with a tired smile.

"Thank you, Ma'am. Um…Madame Desslar, are you all right? You look tired," Carrie said her voiced laced with concern. Mary nodded her agreement.

Paris sighed and leaned back in the chair with a hand on her swelling belly. "I'm fine, girls. I am tired but that's just part of being pregnant, or so Doctor Murphy says. I'll take a nap after your lesson Mary so don't worry so much. Worrying just brings unwanted wrinkles."

The twins laughed and switched places so that Mary could have her lesson. By the time they left for home, Paris could barely find the strength to climb the stairs to the bedroom. She hadn't slept well the night before. Slipping off her slippers, Paris slid under the covers and closed her eyes. Sleep claimed her as her head nestled into the pillow.

* * *

Erik entered the house with a tired sigh and shut the door softly. He stood in the foyer silently for a moment and listened. The house was silent. Frowning he checked the parlor, library, music room and finally the kitchen. Paris was no where to be seen. A glance up the stairs showed that the master bedroom door was closed. His frown faded to a small smile. Paris must be up there, he concluded. 

Grasping the handrail he climbed the stairs silently. Upon reaching the bedroom door he carefully opened it and peered around it to look inside. The sight that greeted him brought a warm smile to his face. Paris slept peacefully beneath the covers on her back. One hand was curled next to her cheek while the other rested protectively over her round belly. Slipping softly into the room Erik padded over to the bed and sat down on the side gently. Reaching forward he gently brushed a strand of midnight hair off of his wife's forehead. With a moan, Paris scrunched up her face and slowly opened one eye to peer up at him.

"Hello," Erik whispered with a smile.

"Mmm, hello," Paris mumbled with a stretch. "What time is it?"

"After six," came Erik's amused answer.

Paris eyes shot open and she sat upright. "After six?"

"Yes, do you have something pressing to do now?" Erik's amusement was obvious.

"I should have been up a long time ago. I decided to take a nap after Mary and Carrie's lesson but that was hours ago. I haven't done anything all day but sleep," Paris moaned as she swung her feet out from under the covers.

"I don't think anyone is going to condemn you for sleeping when you were obviously in need of some rest. You are pregnant after all," Erik said kneeling down to slip Paris' slippers upon her feet and then standing to help her up.

"No but I haven't even gotten dinner started." Tears welled up in Paris' eyes.

Erik sensed a mood swing coming on and quickly jumped in to cut it off at the pass. "I'll get dinner; you just sit in the library and read. Consider this a day off for you."

Tear filled eyes found Erik's and the tears trickled down Paris' cheeks as she spoke in a trembling voice filled with disappointment. "You don't think I can take care of dinner? You think I'll mess it up somehow!"

"No, I don't think that at all. I'm looking out for you and the baby. Just let me take care of you today, all right?"

Paris sniffed before nodding. Erik always had a way with making her fears and doubts disappear. Erik smiled and wrapped an arm around Paris' shoulders as he led her down to the library. He promised to play a game of chess with her after dinner and that brought a smile to her face.

Dinner consisted of cold chicken and biscuits with lemonade to drink. Erik had made a picnic out of it and they made their way out into the woods. Paris had laughed the whole time much to Erik's pleasure. Due to the pregnancy Paris had not been as cheerful as she had been before and that had worried Erik. However, after a visit with Doctor Murphy Erik's fears had been lessened. They were just the mood swings, the Doctor had reassured Erik, nothing to worry too much about. Erik had known that the mood swings were the issue but hearing the diagnosis come from the doctor made Erik feel better. It was one thing to hear men speak about their wives' mood swings and a completely different thing to hear it from a man who understood the situation a bit better.

"That was wonderful," Paris sighed contentedly as she leaned back in Erik's arms.

"I'm glad you enjoyed that, _mon amour_," Erik smiled.

"After the baby is born and old enough to walk we'll have to do this again." Erik nodded and kissed his wife's head. "Oh, I heard from Christine today! She said she and Raoul want to be here when the baby is born. I told them that that would be fine, it is isn't it?" Paris turned around to look up at Erik.

"It will be all right, _chérie_. Christine will be able to help you with the birth," Erik answered. He didn't really want the Vicomte there during the birth but Paris really wanted Christine to be there and Christine would only come if her husband said she could. And of course the only way Raoul would really let Christine come would be if he was with her himself. Raoul still did not completely trust Erik with Christine.

"You still don't like Raoul, do you?" Paris accused with a grin.

"Well he certainly isn't at the top of my list of great friends," Erik answered.

"I don't think I'll ever understand you two and neither will Christine. She said Raoul was reluctant to go at first but in the end he agreed to come." Paris shook her head in confusion. Erik laughed and pulled Paris back against him, his hands resting on the swell of her belly possessively.

"Well, the baby isn't due for three more months so there will be plenty of time for Raoul to finally realize that I am not about to kidnap Christine for myself."

Paris sighed happily and closed her eyes. The evening was nice and warm with a gentle breeze. The sun was slowly setting casting beautiful shades of orange, pink and purple into the sky. The birds chipped less and less as they began to bed down for the night and crickets began to sing. Erik and Paris sat in the little clearing for a while longer before Erik stirred.

"We had better head back while there's still light for you to see by. I don't want you to trip over something and hurt yourself or the baby."

Erik helped Paris to her feet then he knelt down to clean up the picnic. Standing, he grabbed the basket in one hand and wrapped his other arm around Paris. After a quick glance down at her Erik began to lead her back to the house. Erik knew that the next three months were going to be hectic but he was prepared to face them head on and not back down. Erik Benedict Desslar, the infamous Phantom of the Opera, did not run and hide in a dangerous situation. And a pregnant woman was one of the most dangerous things a man would ever face.

* * *

To Erik the three months passed quickly. To Paris they dragged on. Being heavily pregnant in the summer was not something she wished to ever do again. The heat made her even more irritable so she snapped at everyone and everything. She had had to apologize several times to her students after she snapped at them for silly things. Erik had also taken several blows to the ego due to Paris' rants and raves. However, he always took them in stride which would send Paris into tears as she apologized to him over and over again all the while telling him that she didn't mean to hurt him and that she loved him. 

"Do not worry about it, _mon petite_. I know you did not mean the hurtful things you said. The baby will be born soon and you will be back to your wonderful, cheerful self again," Erik always reassured her.

Of course with the due date of the baby arriving soon so did the time when the de Chagnys would be visiting. While Erik was still working at the construction site for the church, which was almost finished, Paris worked on preparing the house for the arrival of Raoul and Christine. She wanted the house to look perfect for her friends and so she cleaned and cleaned and rearranged furniture and cleaned some more. Every time Erik came home he found the house rearranged in some way and then rearranged again.

"Paris, darling, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep moving the furniture around all by yourself. Doctor Murphy said not to over-tax yourself. It wasn't good for the baby or you," Erik had cautioned Paris one day when he had returned home to find the furniture once again rearranged and Paris slumped in one of the chairs in the parlor.

"But Christine and Raoul are coming in three days, Erik! I can't let them see the house looking like a pig sty!" Paris had protested.

"I know you don't want them to think that and they won't. Paris, they'll understand if the house isn't as gorgeous as theirs is. They don't expect a palace. They know what the house looks like. Just keep yourself relaxed and everything will be just fine," Erik reassured her.

Paris was silent then smiled and nodded. Erik always had a way to make her feel better. And three days later the de Chagnys arrived. Paris and Erik stood outside waiting for them to walk up the path. As soon as Christine and Paris saw each other they laughed and ran towards each other. Well, Christine ran, Paris waddled with a hand upon her large stomach. Erik and Raoul watched, amused as their wives greeted each other like children.

"Oh, Paris let me look at you! Oh, you look so wonderful!" Christine laughed holding Paris back so that she could look at the mother-to-be.

"I do not, I look fat!" Paris protested but she laughed just the same.

"You must be very proud," Raoul spoke to Erik as they stood in front of the house watching their wives.

"_Ouí_, very proud indeed," Erik answered softly with a proud look upon his face.

"I hope everything works out for the both of you. I've heard that the birthing is the most painful part of a pregnancy. Women have died because of it and your Paris is a rather small woman physically," Raoul stated looking at the woman in question.

"She may be small physically but she is large in heart and will not let anything happen to herself or the baby," Erik glared at the Vicomte.

"I was just putting a word of caution out for you, I meant no harm."

"Hmm."

The four eventually went inside and Paris proudly showed the de Chagnys around the house now that the furniture was back in its original places. Christine gushed over the nursery and looked at Raoul with her big blue eyes as if to plead with him to give her a baby of her own. Raoul had glared at the smirking Phantom when Christine had looked at Raoul.

After the tour the four sat down for dinner and then they all gathered in the library to talk and catch up. Letters had been written but, as Paris had told Erik as they had all entered the library, letters weren't the same as telling things to someone in person. They talked late into the evening and Paris promised to take the de Chagnys to the new church so that they could see Erik's wonderful creation.

"It's not finished yet on the inside but the outside is so beautiful. Stain glass windows and white marble stone sides. I can't wait to play the organ in it when it's finished," Paris praised and smiled at her husband as he sipped his brandy.

"It sounds beautiful," Christine said before yawning. A glance at the mantel clock told everyone that it was well after one in the morning.

"Goodness, where did the time go?" Paris gasped rising out of her chair with Erik's help.

"That is something no one will ever know, _mon petite_," Erik answered.

After the de Chagnys had been shown to their room, Erik and Paris entered their own. It had been a rather long day and they were both ready to get some sleep. Paris was anxious to have the baby now that Christine was there and the baby was due any day now. Placing a hand over her belly Paris smiled when she felt the baby kick. Erik glanced over at her when she gave a small laugh.

"The baby kicked," Paris explained. She hurried over to Erik and taking his hand she placed it over her stomach. A few seconds later the baby kicked again. Erik laughed softly and gave Paris a swift kiss on the lips.

They fell asleep that night with the smiles on their faces knowing that their baby would soon join them in the world.

* * *

Morning came bright and early. Erik arose before Paris and after he was dressed he went downstairs to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. While he was cooking the eggs Christine entered the kitchen. 

"Oh, I thought you were Paris. I didn't think you would be in here," she stammered.

"Paris should be getting up by now. She's been sleeping in longer than me because of the baby. Usually she's up long before I am," Erik said turning back to the eggs.

"Raoul will be down in a minute as well. Can I do anything to help?"

"No, I have everything taken care of."

"Oh, okay then."

Christine left the kitchen and headed towards the music room. Raoul came down and joined her a few minutes later. Paris still wasn't down by the time breakfast was ready. Erik frowned up the stairs, concerned. After telling Raoul and Christine to start eating with out him or Paris, Erik went up the stairs and entered the bedroom.

"Oh, thank God you're here. I was just about to call you. I can't get my dress buttoned," Paris turned her back to her husband who gave a silent sigh of relief. "Will you be going to the site today?"

"Yes," Erik said as he buttoned the dress.

"Okay. I can show Christine and Raoul around since you so kindly told all my students that there wouldn't be any lessons until after the baby was born."

Erik said nothing. Instead he helped Paris down to the kitchen for breakfast. Paris and Christine did the dishes while Raoul went into the parlor to read the paper and Erik left for the construction site.

"I'm going to show you and Raoul the village. You must meet my students and we can go shopping. I haven't been shopping in a while thanks to this baby," Paris explained happily.

"Is Erik alright with that? Shopping I mean. After all you are going to have your baby any time now," Christine frowned with concern.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about it. If I'm in the village I'll be around friends and if the baby decides to come while I'm there then there will be plenty of people to help me," Paris reasoned.

Christine was still a bit wary about going to the village with Paris so close to the time of delivery. However, once the dishes were put away Paris told Christine to go tell Raoul the plans while she went up to get ready. A short while later Paris waited in the parlor for Christine and Raoul to come down so that she could show them the village and introduce them to her friends. Her humming came to a sudden stop when a sharp pain pierced her lower abdomen.

"Funny, that's been happening a lot lately," she muttered with a frown.

Rising to her feet so that she could go see what was keeping Raoul and Christine, Paris froze. Something wet was trickling down her legs. Paris' eyes widened in alarm as she realized that her water had just broken. Raising her head, she turned her face towards the direction of the stairs.

"Christine! Raoul!"

"Hold on Paris, we're almost ready!" Christine's voice called down.

"I don't think you need to finish! We're not going!"

"What? Why?"

"My water just broke! I need the doctor!"

A/N: Yay, the baby's coming!


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris and the baby. The rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. Also, Erik goes quite out of character in this chapter but I think considering the circumstances it's understandable. 

Chapter Twenty Four

"WHAT!" Raoul's roar sounded as footsteps thundered down the stairs rapidly.

"My water just broke! I…I want Erik!" Paris sobbed as Raoul, followed closely by Christine, entered the parlor.

"Jesus!" Raoul breathed as soon as he saw the water stain on the floor below Paris' dress which she held up from the floor.

"Quick, we have to get her up to her bed before we go get the doctor or even Erik! Oh, why did he have to leave now?" Christine moaned as she rushed forward to help Paris.

While Christine helped get Paris undressed and into a nightgown, Raoul hurried out to the stables in the back of the house to saddle two horses. Christine joined him a few minutes later and they were galloping towards the village. Christine hadn't wanted to leave Paris but Paris had insisted that Christine go with Raoul to retrieve Doctor Murphy and Erik.

They got Doctor Murphy first before Christine turned her horse in the direction of the construction site thanks to Doctor Murphy's instructions on how to get to it. Christine barely had time to admire the beautiful church before she was spotted by one of the laborers.

"Something wrong, Ma'am?" he asked.

"Yes, I must get Monsieur Desslar," Christine gasped for air.

The man frowned. "What for? You're not his wife are you?"

"Please, I don't have time for this. I must see Erik!"

"Fine, he's inside," the man gestured towards the church.

"Thank you, you've been most helpful," Christine muttered sarcastically. Just as she was about to dismount Erik exited the church. Christine stared in shock when she saw him dressed so casually. He had always dressed in an immaculate suit while around her. Now he wore a plain white shirt with the top couple of buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up on his strong muscular arms. His pants were covered in dust and already he looked tired. He was wiping his hands on a rag and was heading towards the water barrel. Realizing she had been staring and doing nothing, Christine shook her self and began to move her horse towards him.

"Erik!"

Erik stopped and turned at the sound of a woman calling his name. At first he thought it was Paris but seeing the woman riding towards him he recognized Christine. He waited until Christine was closer to him.

"Erik, you have to come back! Paris is going into labor!" Christine gasped as she reined her horse to a stop.

Erik had hardly heard the name Paris before he was leaping into action. He turned and ran for his things. Then he mounted his own horse, a Christmas gift from Paris, and after telling the man second in command of the construction work where he was going, turned his horse towards home and ran as if the devil was on his heels for home. He could vaguely hear the cheers of congratulations being shouted after him as he left. Paris was the only thing on his mind.

Erik didn't even bother to unsaddle his horse before he rushed into the house. Raoul was in the parlor with a glass of brandy in his hand for Erik. Christine entered the house right behind Erik and hurried up the stairs. Erik was about to follow her but Raoul blocked his way.

"Let me past, damn it! That's my wife up there!"

"Doctor Murphy said to not let you up there during the labor process. You would just be in the way. Here, drink this, it will calm your nerves," Raoul commanded and handed Erik the brandy.

"I refuse to just sit down here as if my wife was not going through labor! She needs me!"

"She won't need you if you continue acting like this. Men are not allowed in the room while the woman is giving birth. Too stressful," Raoul answered calmly as he sipped his own brandy.

"Too stressful? For whom?" Erik growled, his eyes flashing dangerously at the calm Vicomte.

"The father, I think," Raoul said eyeing Erik pointedly.

Erik growled and would have said something if a knock hadn't sounded at the door just then. With a sound of annoyance Erik strode past the Vicomte and yanked the door open.

"What!"

"Is this a bad time, Erik?" Nadir Khan asked calmly eyeing Erik's dirty and mussed up clothing.

"Yes damn it, it's a terrible time! My wife is in labor and that damn doctor won't let me see her!" Erik shouted.

"Then this is a wonderful time. The birth of a baby is a most miraculous thing indeed. I congratulate you both," Nadir smiled and entered the house. "Ah, Monsieur de Chagny, a pleasure to see you again. How is the Vicomteess?"

"She's doing fine. She's up helping Madame Desslar at the moment," Raoul smiled.

"That's good to hear. Erik will you stop grinding your teeth, that's rather annoying," Nadir turned frowning at Erik.

"Does no one care that my wife is in labor upstairs right this very minute?" he demanded.

"Yes, we all are rather concerned for your wife but there is nothing we can do but sit and wait. You forget Erik that I have gone through the same thing before. My dear son, may he rest in peace, did not just appear in a crib next to my wife's bed."

Erik growled and swallowed his brandy in a single gulp and relished the burning sensation it made all down his throat to his belly. Just then Christine hurried down the stairs. All three men turned to look at her with expectant looks upon their faces.

"Oh, don't get your hopes up just yet. Doctor Murphy says she still has a ways to go. Oh, afternoon Nadir," Christine said as she dashed towards the kitchen. She hurried back up the stairs a few minutes later with a bunch of rags and a bowl of hot water in her hands.

Erik moaned and stumbled into the parlor where he collapsed into a chair. Raoul and Nadir followed close behind. They knew it was going to a long day.

* * *

Over the next few hours Christine hurried down the stairs numerous times to get more hot water. Every time she came down she would shake her head at the men letting them know that the baby still had not made an appearance. 

Erik had taken to pacing back and forth in front of the fire then sitting in a chair to twitch nervously then rise again to pace. It was quickly getting on Raoul's and Nadir's nerves. Finally, Raoul had had enough.

"Erik, sit down and sit still before I tie you to a chair!"

Erik cast a glare at the Vicomte but did as he said. Nadir rose and poured a glass of brandy which he handed to Erik. Erik took it and gulped half of it in one swallow. Nadir exchanged a look with Raoul. They were reminded of Erik's wedding. He had been antsy and nervous then too. A scream suddenly filled the house and Erik shot to his feet, his glass of brandy falling to the floor, shattering.

"_Mon Dieu_, what is he doing to her?" Erik gasped out hoarsely as he gripped the mantle.

"She must be close to her time," Nadir answered softly.

Another scream sounded from upstairs in the master bedroom. Erik's cries of pain filled the parlor. His wife was in pain and he wasn't there to comfort her!

"Damn it, I'll kill you Erik when I get my hands on you!" Paris' screamed threat came down the stairs when the bedroom door was opened to allow Christine out.

Erik went visibly white beneath his mask at the venom in his wife's voice. Surly she didn't mean that? Christine looked haggard when she came down the stairs once more to get more hot water. She cast a tired smile towards Erik before she returned up the stairs.

"Men should have to go through this much pain too! After all they were there to make this kid why do they get off easy! Erik, you had better watch out, _mon amour_ because when I get out of this bed you will know first hand all the pain I am going through to bring this damn kid of yours into this God forsaken world!"

The closed door of the bedroom couldn't mute out Paris' threat this time and Erik's swallow was heard by everyone in the parlor.

"Don't worry about it, Desslar. My brother's wife had a baby recently, a boy, and Bethany said some similar things when she was giving birth. It's the pain talking, at least that's what Bethany said," Raoul smiled reassuringly as he placed a hand on Erik's shoulder.

"If you think you're going to touch me intimately any time in the future, you had better rethink some things, Erik! I'll cure you of any further sexual pleasure before I let you place a hand on me, damn you!"

"Then again, maybe not," Raoul backed away after Paris' threat. Erik didn't know what to do. Paris was in pain and screaming about his ultimate demise. However, Raoul was telling him that it was just the pain talking and that Paris' didn't mean any of her threats. Glancing at Nadir, Erik felt a tiny spark of hope inside of him. Nadir had survived the birth of his son and Nadir's wife hadn't killed Nadir. And Erik had a feeling that Nadir's wife had shouted some rather cruel things at Nadir during the birth as well.

Another scream sounded from the bedroom, this one longer and louder than any of the others. Then, all of a sudden there was silence. Erik began to hyperventilate as the silence lingered. A loud smack was heard and that pushed Erik over the edge. With a loud thump he fainted. Raoul and Nadir spun around at the sound of a body hitting the floor and stared in shock at the infamous Phantom of the Opera collapsed on the floor in a dead faint. They rushed over towards him just as the sound of an infant's cry filled the house. Raoul and Nadir spared time to give a whoop of delight for the birth of the baby before they returned their attention to the incapacitated new father. Footsteps suddenly sounded on the stairs and Christine soon entered the parlor, a wide smiled on her tired face.

"A girl, she had a girl! Erik, you have a daughter! Erik…Erik?"

"He fainted," Raoul said turning to look at his wife.

"Oh dear."

"Well, what does the new father have to say? He hasn't come charging up here," Doctor Murphy called down.

"He fainted!" Christine shouted up to him.

"He did WHAT?" Paris' screamed demand filled the house, her anger and shock apparent. "Wake him up damn it! He wanted to see this kid so he had better be awake to see her! I swear to God, if he's not up here in two seconds I'm getting out of this bed and marching down to him to show him his daughter!"

Raoul and Nadir chuckled as they listened to Paris' threats. Raoul took the small bottle of smelling salts that Christine handed to him and held it under Erik's nose. Erik woke with a moan and batted the offending smell away. His eyes opened slowly and he sat up with a hand on his head.

"What happened?" he asked.

The baby's cry filled the house and Erik's eyes flew towards the direction of the master bedroom. A quick glance at the smiling faces of Raoul, Nadir and Christine told him all he needed to know. Scrambling to his feet, Erik dashed for the stairs. He took them two at a time in his hurry to get to his wife. Doctor Murphy grinned as Erik reached the top of the stairs and stepped out of the anxious father's way.

"It's about time, I was beginning to think you had deserted me," Paris spoke from the bed as soon as Erik entered cautiously.

Paris looked exhausted. Her hair was plastered to her face and neck with sweat. Her eyes were tired and she looked ready to fall asleep. She looked so tiny sitting alone in the bed but to Erik she had never looked more beautiful especially since there was a new addition to the family in her arms.

"Come say hello to your daughter, Erik," Paris said softly with a tired smile on her face.

Erik slowly made his way over to her side and peered down at the tiny bundle resting in Paris' arms. Settling next to his wife he smiled with pride as she showed him his daughter. She was just a tiny little thing with a tiny patch of black fuzz on her tiny head. Her eyes were open and staring at him. Erik smiled when he saw that she had his eyes. Raising a finger to trace her cheek gently she raised an arm and caught the finger in her tiny hand. Erik felt tears prick his eyes. This was his daughter, he thought. Turning his attention to Paris he leaned over and gave her a heated kiss which she returned wholeheartedly.

"I love you," he whispered before capturing her lips again.

"And I love you, _mon amour_. Now go show everyone our daughter," Paris smiled with tears in her eyes.

Erik carefully gathered his daughter into his arms and left to go show everyone her. He and Paris had finally agreed on names for their child depending on what it was. He felt proud that he was now about to introduce his child to his and Paris' friends by her name.

"Everyone, I would like to present to you my daughter, Aurelia Myra Desslar."

A/N: Yay the baby's here!


	25. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: I only own Paris and Aurelia; the rest belong to Gaston Leroux and Sir Lloyd Webber. 

Epilogue

"Aurelia Myra Desslar, come back here!"

"Catch, catch!"

Paris stood watching as her three year old daughter ran around the back yard with her father chasing after her. With a squeal of delight Aurelia was scooped up into Erik's arms and spun around in a circle. Paris laughed as Erik tossed his daughter over his shoulder and strode back towards the house.

"You're spoiling her, Erik," Paris smiled with a shake of her head.

"And I'll spoil the next one just as much," Erik grinned as he kissed Paris and placed his free hand upon Paris' stomach which was swelling with child.

"Baby?" Aurelia asked when Erik swung her off his shoulder and held her against his hip.

"Yes, Aurelia, a baby. You're going to be a big sister soon," Paris smiled as she brushed Aurelia's black hair out of her big grey-blue eyes that had the same golden swirls as Erik's.

Aurelia squealed with laughter and clapped her hands. Erik set his daughter down and told her to go wash up for lunch. He then turned to his wife and pulled her to him for a deep kiss. A sudden jab at his stomach caused Erik to pull away and glance down. Paris laughed as the baby kicked again.

"I think this is a boy. Aurelia never kicked this much."

"Maybe it's just a really impatient girl like her mother," Erik teased.

Paris frowned and glared at Erik. "Watch yourself, Monsieur Desslar. I still remember some of the things I threatened during Aurelia's birth and I'm not afraid to make them come about this time. You're lucky there's even another kid inside me."

"You make many threats that you never mean, _mon amour_ and you'll continue to make them until we are old and grey and the only threat you'll ever make will be to whack me with your cane. Of course that's assuming you will even be able to whack me with it when you'll need it to stand."

Paris eyed Erik before replying. "I won't need to get up to whack you. We'll both be bed ridden and you'll be right there next to me where I can always keep an eye on you."

Erik laughed and pulled Paris towards him for another heated kiss. "I think I'd rather be bedridden with you when we're old and grey. That way I'll always know where you are and I can hold you just like this. I will die with you in my arms; you can count on that, _mon petite_."

"That really doesn't sound as beautiful as it does in the books when you say it out loud and really mean it. It sounds rather morbid and scary. I'll just have to die before you then. That way I won't know if you die with me in your arms or not," Paris grinned as she slid a hand behind Erik's head to tangle her fingers in his hair that was tied at his neck.

"I guess we'll just have to die together. Otherwise, we'll both try to die first so that neither of us knows who died in whose arms," Erik compromised.

"I guess so," Paris murmured against Erik's lips as she brought his head down for another kiss.

"Ewww kisses!" Aurelia's childish cries of disgust drifted over to Erik and Paris causing them to laugh and turn to their daughter.

"Are you all washed up?" Erik asked scooping Aurelia up into his arms when she ran to him.

"Yes, Papa, see?" Aurelia held her chubby little hands out for her father's inspection.

"Indeed they are. Come let's get inside and feed you, _mon petite trésor_," Erik smiled.

Erik entered the house with Aurelia in his arms. Paris followed behind at a slower pace. Suddenly she froze and glanced down at her feet.

"Erik!"

"What, what's wrong?" Erik asked sticking his head back out the door.

"My water just broke. I need the doctor."

_The End_

A/N: Well, it's done. I just wish to thank everyone who has reviewed and stuck til the very end. I'll try to work on another one over my summer break and hopefully it will be done by the time I get back to school so that I can upload it. Celticreeder.


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